Literary
by Celestiana
Summary: [SxS] Sakura is a famous fanfiction author. Syaoran is the best beta she's ever had. They share a world made of the words and tales they weave and write. Too bad they hate each other in real life... Full summary inside. Rated for language. AUish.
1. Prologue

**_Literary.._**

**_-_**

**Summary:** Sakura is a famous fanfiction author. Syaoran is the best beta she's ever had. They share a world made of the words and tales they weave and write. But they don't know that they know each other...in real life.

**_-_**

**Full Summary:** He promised he'd come back for her. She promised to wait for him. But a misunderstanding creates a giant rift between Sakura and Syaoran, enough to break the powerful friendship they once shared. To escape fate's blows, Sakura seeks solace in fanfiction and soon becomes a famous author on the busy _Fanfiction Corner, _under the alias Sayuri. She's lucky enough to meet Lang, and he becomes her greatest fan, faithful beta, and online buddy/soulmate. Wait until she finds out that "Lang" is really Syaoran, the cause of all her troubles...

* * *

Prologue

-

It was a warm summer afternoon in Tomoeda, Japan. It would have been a perfect day to go out and buy ice creams, ten-year-old Sakura thought to herself sadly.

But no. Instead, she was at the airport, watching teary-eyed as a boy of about her age hauled his last suitcase onto the conveyor belt. He turned around to face her tear-stained face, an apologetic look on his face.

"Look, don't cry -" he began, but that just set her off. She began to bawl and sob and hiccup in that little-girl way of hers, and he winced as people looked at her curiously.

"Sakura-chan," he muttered, his face going red. "People are staring at you like you're weird. Please don't cry."

Sakura sniffed once or twice before obediently falling silent.

"I just can't believe it..." she said, her voice shaking. "You're leaving me and going away."

"I'm not leaving you!" Syaoran's hands shot out to grab her shoulders. His wide amber eyes, too big on his childish pudding of a face, were intense as he stared at her. "I'm going to Hong Kong to train. For a few years."

"_Years_?!" Sakura was taken aback. Such a long time?

"They'll go by like that." Syaoran snapped his fingers to prove his point. "Trust me."

She sniffled again.

"It's too long," she said, her bottom lip trembling alarmingly again. "I don't want to never see you again -"

A fresh bout of tears escaped from her eyes. She wrapped her arms around her best friend and cried into his shoulder. He stood there looking stunned for a moment before he patted the top of her head awkwardly.

"Stop acting like a baby," he said, which made her cry even harder. "You're going to have plenty to do in the next few years. You have to take care of Kero. You have to watch after the Sakura Cards. You're going to have to study like mad so that when I get back here, you can beat me in our next maths test."

He grinned at her, pulling her off of him and holding her at arms' length.

"Come on, stop crying," he said, more gently. "For me. Please?"

And Sakura could never refuse him. Because though they had only known each other for a little over a year, they were best friends. Friends in a way that even she and Tomoyo couldn't match. It was a glorious giving and taking of childhood innocence that gave birth to a relationship unable to be described in words.

She took a good look at him, trying to memorize every last detail. The round face, already starting to mature, though he was only ten years old. She could see the jaw and cheekbones growing more prominent. His nose, still too small for his face. His tiny mouth. His cheeks, which were now dusted with a faint red blush. God, he looked adorable when he blushed like that. And his eyes. His giant amber eyes that seemed far too big for his face. Amber, warm, lined with curiously effeminate eyelashes...

What would he look like when she saw him next, she wondered?

He scrutinized her carefully too, making a picture of her in his mind. Even though he didn't have to, because there was a picture of the two of them safely tucked away in his suitcase. But still, he made sure he remembered the pale white face, the soft dusting of freckles, the full pink lips...Her fine hair the shade of honey, cropped boyishly short. Her sparkling green eyes.

He didn't even want to think about what she would look like in a few years. He couldn't imagine her different. He didn't want her to be different. He wanted her to stay as the Sakura he'd befriended. Always cheerful, always carefree, always ready to pull a reluctant smile from his shy face.

Syaoran's guardian, Wei, interrupted them by gently placing a hand on Syaoran's shoulder.

"My apologies, young master," he said in his deep voice, "but it is time we boarded."

Syaoran's face darkened as he nodded quickly. Sakura had begun to tremble, though her eyes were thankfully dry. She hugged him to her in a last goodbye embrace.

"You'll write to me, right?" she asked quickly, to stop herself from crying again.

"Of course," Syaoran assured her. "You gave me your address and phone number, I have it written down. We'll keep in touch. Phone calls, letters, emails...it'll be as though I haven't gone anywhere."

"Write to me when you get there," Sakura pleaded, not wanting to let him go.

"The moment I set foot into my house," Syaoran said, fighting a grin. "Sakura, I really have to go or I'll miss my flight!"

Sakura was tempted to keep Syaoran by her side so that he _would_ miss his flight. Then he wouldn't have to go to Hong Kong and leave her alone. But that wouldn't work, she thought with a frown. His mother in Hong Kong would probably get mad at him and at her, and just send Syaoran another plane ticket.

Feeling a part of her go numb, she let go of Syaoran. Face falling, he turned around and followed Wei to the door on the other side of the room. He was getting smaller and smaller...she could barely see him...

"Wait!" she cried, slipping and dashing to where Syaoran stood, just about to cross into the other room. She grabbed her knees and panted, while Syaoran looked at her, pain in his eyes.

Sakura ran her fingers through her hair and pulled one of her hairclips out. It was a pretty amber comb, with a curiously real-looking fabric blossom attached to it.

She pressed it into Syaoran's hand.

He glanced at it, dumbfounded.

"It's a cherry blossom," he said.

"To remember me by," she said simply.

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment. Neither of them pointed out the sheer and utter uselessness of her giving Syaoran a woman's hairclip.

"I'll come back," Syaoran said decisively, his fist closing tightly around Sakura's keepsake. "For you. I promise."

Sakura nodded, her eyes brimming once again.

"And I'll wait for you," she whispered. "No matter how long you take."

Syaoran felt his own eyes prickle dangerously before turning around for the last time. Sakura stood there, tears streaming down her cheeks, watching the back of Syaoran's head grow smaller and smaller into the distance. Until he disappeared and she couldn't see him at all.

* * *

She managed to save her tears until she reached her bedroom. Once she locked herself safely behind her door and closed the drapes around her windows, she flung herself onto her bed and sobbed uncontrollably into her pillow. 

Kero watched Sakura sadly.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked, uncharacteristically serious as her sobs subsided into hesitant little sniffles.

She shook her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her palm.

"Not really," she said, pulling a face. She swung herself into a sitting position and glanced around her room. It already felt so boring without Syaoran here!

"Maybe you should do something to take your mind off of Sy – him," Kero suggested innocently.

"Like what?" she asked, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Um -" Kero paused, trying to think of something. "Do something ridiculous like...uh..." _Skinny dipping? __No__. Singing karaoke? ...__definitely__ not. Movie making? No, Tomoyo's camera isn't with her..._

"Writing fanfiction!" he burst out.

His words hovered on the air.

_Where'd _that_ come from?_ Kero asked himself, scratching his head with his right paw.

Sakura's blank look transformed into an incredulous stare.

"Yeah right!" she snorted. "Thanks for the idea though."

"No, no!" Kero said desperately, trying to convince her although he didn't really know what he was talking about. "Writing fanfiction is...awesome. You get to borrow your favourite characters from your favourite books and movies and stuff, and then you get to make them do funny things, and change around the endings, and even just change the whole storyline altogether! Plus, random people all over the world can read your stories and they even leave you reviews and -"

He paused in mid-rant as Sakura gazed at him, goggle-eyed.

"I'm not making this sound very appealling, am I?" he asked dryly.

Sakura shook her head, giggling a little.

"No, but you cheered me up," she said with a small smile. "Thanks, Kero."

"Ah...no problem," Kero said, relieved. He didn't know what was getting into him lately. _Fanfiction writing._ He couldn't imagine Sakura being one of those crazed, obsessive, cyberspace authors. Just the thought of it made him laugh. Fanfiction. What a truly ridiculous pastime.

"Maybe you could get the Cards out," he suggested. "I'm sure some of them are getting bored, being locked up all day. Why don't you take one of them out for a walk or something?"

Sakura gave him a stern glare.

"The Cards aren't my pets, Kero," she said reproachfully. "You know that."

"Ah..." Kero said, wincing a little When Sakura was depressed, it threw him off. He didn't know what to say or think anymore...

_I know!_ He thought, eyes lighting up. _I'll make her a nice big cake. That'll cheer her up for sure! Forget karaoke and movie making and fanfiction and all that crazy stuff. Chocolate's the way to go!_

"I'll be right back," Kero said, getting up and making his way to the door. "Oh, and don't do anything ridiculous while I'm gone."

"Like write fanfiction?" Sakura teased, and Kero disappeared with a nervous giggle.

Sakura shook her head, smiling to herself. Kero and his ideas! Okay, sometimes he got a little bit farfetched, but _fanfiction_?

_Actually_, she thought to herself, _I don't think that's too bad at all._

She glanced sadly at the framed picture propped upright on her bedstand. It was of her and Syaoran, taken just two weeks ago. Syaoran had invited them over to his mansion, and he, Sakura, Tomoyo, Eriol and Meiling spent the entire afternoon in his giant basement watching movies on his enormous home theatre. Tomoyo had snapped a picture of the two right in the middle of the first _Lord of the Rings_ movie. A giant troll had just appeared out of nowhere, and Sakura had screamed and grabbed the closest thing to her, which in that case happened to be Syaoran. Seconds later..._snap!_ Bright white flashing lights.

Sakura smiled wistfully at the identical shocked expressions on her and Syaoran. What a happy time. The best part had been when Tomoyo had snapped a picture of them laughing together after recovering from the double shock of the big ugly troll, and then Tomoyo's camera. Sakura loved that picture. Syaoran had kept that one. Maybe he'd keep it by _his_ bedstand in Hong Kong and stare at it every night, wishing he was in Tomoeda...

_Kero's right_, she thought to herself suddenly. _You need to do something. How about fanfiction? It's probably ridiculous enough to get my mind off of all this._

With that thought in her mind, she got out of her bed and seated herself in front of the desktop in her room. She was glad that she had closed the drapes, because her window had a perfect view of the mansion where Syaoran used to live. She giggled, remembering the times she'd be awake in the middle of the night and so would Syaoran, and they'd communicate by flicking their light switches on and off -

She abruptly opened up an Internet browser, and got to a search engine.

_Now_, she thought to herself, _where's a good fanfiction site?_

She typed in her query and her mouse found thousands of results. She scanned the page, her eyes hitting a number.

_804 567 results found._

_Wow_, Sakura thought to herself. _A _lot_ of people out there write fanfiction. I guess I'm not the only crazy one here for wanting to write._

She began to search through the pages, not knowing what she was looking for, but searching nonetheless.

A homely looking site loaded onto her screen. The header read, _The Fanfiction Corner._

There were nearly 6 million authors registered on that site, writing under almost a million different works. Sakura's jaw dropped as she saw the titles of familiar books, movies, TV shows, video games...

_This is insane_, she thought to herself. _There must be a fanfiction out for every media piece released!_

And curious words jumped out at her. Canon, fanon, fluff, ship, AU, Mary Sue, OC, R&R...

_Okay_, Sakura told herself. _Fanfiction is crazier than I am_.

It was like learning a different language. Being part of a completely different world. And she welcomed the change. It was in fact, as Kero had suggested, enough to get her mind off of her previous depression.

Sakura didn't have to think twice before opening up an empty Word document and typing away at something. She didn't care if it was badly written or not. All she knew was that the pain inside of her needed to come out, and this was an excellent way of doing it. She wrote about partings and endings and friends who could never see each other again. She wrote it entirely in the first person perspective. And of course, she chose to write in the _Lord of the Rings_ fandom, simply because of the memories the movies brought her. As she finished her first chapter (barely five hundred words long), she turned around to face the picture of herself and Syaoran, and gave it a very small smile.

"Wish me luck," she said to the terrified-looking Syaoran in the picture before signing up for an account at _Fanfiction Corner._ She chose her penname as _Cherry Blossom_, the English translation of her name. Her account was made, she uploaded her first chapter onto the site and set about making her first story.

She titled it _The Parting of Ways_ and within moments, it was published. One of the forty thousand fanfictions based on _Lord of the Rings._ She wondered if anyone would read it or post a review.

To her annoyance, she saw that, in her hurry to create an account, she had typoed her penname. She was not _Cherry Blossom._ Instead, she was _Cheery Blossom_.

She groaned, burying her head into her arms. Well, _Cheery Blossom_ was better than nothing at all. Besides, penname _Cherry Blossom_ was already taken, she observed.

...she still couldn't believe she'd followed Kero's advice and gotten into fanfiction. And what was worse, she was actually enjoying herself.

This was getting addicting.

"Ta-_da_!" Kero sang, pushing the door open. "Feast your eyes on _this_!"

Sakura whirled around in her chair. Her eyes went perfectly round as she saw the gigantic, three-tiered cake he had baked for her. A masterpiece of chocolate, whipped cream and glazed strawberries. Piped icing spelled the words, _Feel better soon, Sakura_.

Sakura's face split into a grin as she ran from her desk to grab the cake, placed it carefully on her desk, and then grab Kero in her arms.

"Aww," she said, squeezing him tightly. "You're so sweet. Did you know that?"

Kero felt himself turning purple.

"That's – that's nice -" he gasped, choking. "You can let go of me now!"

Sakura promptly let go of him with an "oh! Right!" and a murmured stream of apologies. The two of them then proceeded to work their way through the giant cake, which was absolutely _delicious_.

"Oh yum," Sakura said happily. "I'm going to be so sick tomorrow..."

"It's worth every bite," Kero said dramatically, popping a giant slice into his mouth and chewing slowly with his eyes closed.

"Anyway," he said after swallowing, "what were you doing all this time? You're in such a good mood now."

Sakura grinned at him.

"Writing fanfiction," she said brightly.

Kero fell onto the ground in disbelief.

* * *

The next day, Sakura scrambled to her computer and checked her story on the _Fanfiction Corner_. Her eyes flitted across her stats. 

_17 hits. 1 review._

Sakura's face lit up.

"Hey Kero!" she said, her face splitting into a wide grin. "Someone actually reviewed!"

Kero grunted before perching on her shoulder.

"I still can't believe you actually started _writing_ -" he began, but Sakura cut him off with an innocent blink.

"I think the only reason I did it was because you told me _not_ to," she replied and chuckled to herself.

Kero opened his mouth to retort and then realized what he was seeing. Here was Sakura, smiling and laughing to herself. Being her normal cheery self. And if it was all because of this fanfiction stuff, then maybe it couldn't be _too_ bad that she'd started writing.

As long as it kept her mind off the Syaoran kid...

"Ha ha, very funny," Kero grunted noncommitally. "So what did your reviewer write?"

Sakura clicked on the button and the review appeared. It was posted by _Leader of Plums_, whoever that was.

She read it eagerly.

_Overall it was good. You need to check your grammar at times. But I liked your characters, they were really realistic._

_Not bad for a first attempt though. If you keep writing, I think you can become a really good author._

Kero read the comments over Sakura's shoulder.

"That wasn't too bad," he said. "They said you could be a really good author."

"Yeah..." Sakura trailed off, eyes scanning the review as if trying to memorize it. It was nice of _Leader of Plums_ to give criticism. Even if it hurt a bit.

"Well, I guess I'll have to work more on my grammar," she said lightly, closing the browser. She got up from her desk and flopped back onto her bed, staring at the picture of her and Syaoran.

He'd sent her a quick email the night before, true to his word. And she'd sent a reply. Now she was just waiting for him to write back. She didn't know when he'd send another one back. He said that he was already so busy with training, he barely had time to write to her.

Sakura sighed. What was a girl to do in the meantime?

She gazed at her computer screen. A small smile flitted across her face.

_Time to start chapter two..._

_-_

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Me no own. You no sue. 

**a/n:** I'm hesitant on whether I want to continue this or not. This went smoothly up until the second chapter, after which, the characters started becoming stubborn. I'm not sure whether I want to go through the trouble of fighting with them unless it's really worth it.

To put it bluntly, if this doesn't get a lot of reviews, it'll probably be coming down in a few days. Yeah, I hate demanding readers to review, but I feel even worse when I see that 800 people have hit the page and only 12 have bothered leaving reviews. That hurts even more than begging for reviews.

The next chapter will fast forward seven years, to when SxS are in their teenage years, which is when the plot starts rolling. The entire mood and style of the story does a 180 after the prologue. This is not a cutesy story. It's going to have a lot of deep angst in it. I'm trying to incorporate a bit of humour here and there, but this is going to be a pretty serious story. I've turned the rating up to M because...Sakura and Syaoran are going to be swearing a _lot_.

Anyway, please do review. Length isn't an issue for me. I'm open to ideas and suggestions and scene requests, even.

**Next Chapter:** A typical day in seventeen-year-old Sakura's life is interrupted by a...rather heartbreaking encounter with a certain amber-eyed boy from Hong Kong. Look for it in _Free Fall_.

**Please do review!**

**-_Celestiana_**


	2. Free Fall

_**Literary..**_

_**-**_

**Summary: **Sakura is a famous fanfiction author. Syaoran is the best beta she's ever had. They share a world made of the words and tales they weave and write. But they don't know that they know each other...in real life.

_**-**_

**Full Summary: **He promised he'd come back for her. She promised to wait for him. But a misunderstanding creates a giant rift between Sakura and Syaoran, enough to break the powerful friendship they once shared. To escape fate's blows, Sakura seeks solace in fanfiction and soon becomes a famous author on the busy _Fanfiction Corner, _under the alias Sayuri. She's lucky enough to meet Lang, and he becomes her greatest fan, faithful beta, and online buddy/soulmate. Wait until she finds out that "Lang" is really Syaoran, the cause of all her troubles...

**_-_**

**a/n:** Wow, 31 reviews! I don't think I've ever had such an enthusiastic response for a first chapter! If you guys keep this up...let's just say you and I **both** will be very happy. I'll try write faster and you can read more chapters quicker. **-LOVELOVELOVELOVES...-**

Anyway, you can see in this chapter why I chose to rate this story M, just to be cautious...

**Enjoy!!**

**

* * *

**

Chapter One. Free Fall

-

**Sakura's POV**

-

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

_Fucking alarm_, I think to myself groggily, slamming the stupid clock with my hand. It's fucking six in the morning, why the hell do I have to be up this early?

And then the answer comes to me.

_You have that goddamned essay due today. Remember?_

Oh shit. I jump out of bed, down the glass of water by my bedstand and race in front of my computer. I turn it on.

It's so damn cold in this house! I mean, hello, it's November! Almost December, actually...but, point being, it's _winter_. And in winter, the weather gets cold! It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Would it kill someone to turn the damn heating up?

Shit. Not good. I've barely been awake for five minutes and I'm already bitching.

_Fuck_.

I groan, opening up my history essay. I glance despairingly at my word count. 1091 words. Essay minimum is 1200.

_...screw this_, I think to myself. I type up a complete bullshit conclusion and to my relief, the word count reads 1301 words.

_Not bad_, I think to myself, checking over for MLA format and writing up my bibliography. _It's only six thirty. You may even get time to eat breakfast today._

That is, if there's any food in the fucking fridge.

_Language, Sakura_, I warn myself, saving my essay and clicking _Print_. My printer immediately starts spitting out the six pages of my essay.

_Dear Kami-sama_, I think to myself. _Can you please go easy on me today?_

His response is an evident _No_, as my printer starts to whine for more ink. I check my drawers. No ink.

_Damn. Shit. Fuck. Not good._

So now I have to print my stupid bibliography in the library. Need I mention that they charge 20 yen for one damned page? And my bibliography is only half a page long! What a bunch of cheapskates. Normally, I'd ask Tomoyo to print it for me, but seeing as it's bloody six forty in the morning, she's probably still enjoying her beauty sleep.

Beauty sleep. Ha! She's fucking seventeen years old! What does she need a _beauty_ sleep for, anyway?!

I slam my drawer shut, snatch my essay from the printer and give it a good banging with my fist. Stupid messed-up old printer. I wish I had one of those laser ones. Buy one pack of toner and it lasts you your entire academic lifetime.

I shove the essay into my binder vehemently and stuff everything into my bag. It's going to be a long day. I've got to drop by the clinic in the morning to pick up Dad's medicine before heading off to school. And after school, I've got to stop by the house to give Touya Dad's medicine before heading off to work at the clinic again, my usual shift, from four till nine. And then of course, I've got to come back home and stay on top of my work. Last year of high school means a shitload of homework. Damn it.

I change into my uniform, rolling up my sleeves and pulling the hem of my skirt down to my knees. I hate wearing skirts. Especially school skirts. They're so rough and itchy. Ew.

I turn off my computer, pat a sleeping Kero gently over the head, sling my bag over my shoulder and slide out the door. Turning off the lights, I make my way down the stairs as fast as I can. The house is so dark and quiet at this time of the day. Touya's living in residence. Dad's sleeping upstairs. He needs as much rest as he can nowadays. So it's just me, me and little old me awake in this house right now. Scary, ne?

I open the fridge. Hm, nothing but milk, Gatorade, and Dad's tonics. Yuck. Wait...is that an apple I see? Yes indeed. I grab that, and pour myself a glass of milk. I down that in about two seconds flat, and barge out of the house, apple in hand.

I check my watch. Six fifty-five.

I'm going to miss my bus. _Shit_.

I tear down the street, panting as the bus stops at the stop, just two steps in front of me. I get onto it, relieved, flash my bus pass at the driver and sink gratefully into one of the seats.

The bus doors close and next stop: the clinic.

...sometimes, I _really_ get sick of it all.

* * *

Well, there goes the warning bell. I haven't even made it to my locker yet! Dad's medicine is safe in my purse, but it was a real bitch to get. Stupid clinics. Stupid paperwork. Stupid _not-in-service_ buses. How the hell can buses be not in service when they're _clearly_ running from point A to point B? Some asshole administrator _needs_ to get his brains checked. Seriously. 

I brush past a group of assholes bunched near my locker. One of them asks me out. I give him the finger and stop at my locker. I would've walked right past it, except for the fact that the one right next to mine is bolted shut, for some weird reason.

Okay, today's Thursday. I have chemistry first period, then advanced calculus, and then history before lunch. I stuff my purse and jacket into my locker, and dump the books I don't need. I then grab three textbooks, slam my locker shut, and head over to chem.

"Sakura!" I hear Tomoyo squeal before I get _pounced_ on. I stagger backward. Whoa. Take it easy, girl. I only got four hours of sleep, ate a fucking apple for breakfast and had to chase after those goddamned buses all morning before getting here! I am _exhausted_! Do you _mind_ not killing me here?

Outwardly, I smile.

"What's up?" I ask cheerfully.

Tomoyo stares at me, her big purple eyes excited.

"Well, didn't you hear the news?" she asks me.

I thought I was the one asking questions here! I shake my head slowly. News? What news?

"Sakura-chan!" Tomoyo giggles. "You're hopeless!"

"I've been a bit busy," I say, with the littlest amount of bitterness that I can muster. "Can't keep on top of the gossip."

"Or much else!" she snorts.

I seriously want to smack her pretty little face. It just might shut her up.

"Remember at the beginning of the year, the teachers were saying that some new kid would be transferring in?"

I grow dot-eyed.

"Do you honestly think I was listening?"

"Well, the new kid's coming tomorrow!" Tomoyo chirps.

"My heart overflows with ecstasy," I mutter sarcastically, sitting at my seat, which is right in front of hers.

"It will be," says Tomoyo from behind me. "'Cuz guess who the new kid is?"

"Santa Claus," I answer sardonically, flipping my chem textbook open and pulling out a couple of pens and my notebook.

"Close!" Tomoyo sings behind me. "He's coming from Hong Kong!"

_Hong Kong..._

I freeze. My heart skips a beat. The pen drops out of my fingers and rolls off of my desk onto the floor.

It can't be...it _couldn't_ be...

"_Syaoran?_" I breathe, hardly daring to believe it.

"Well, of course!" Tomoyo replies, sweeping my pen off the floor and handing it to me. "Meiling called me last night. She told me that he's flying over today, and should be in school tomorrow!"

_Ah_. Meiling. She's here, in Tomoeda. Came last summer and she lives in the old Li mansion behind my house. We don't like each other much. I guess it was because Syaoran liked me a lot and she was just jealous. She's friendlier with Tomoyo and Eriol. After a while, my life got so busy I don't even have time to hang out with them. Not that I care.

My thoughts turn to Syaoran's abrupt arrival.

A part of me is hurt. _Why didn't he tell me?_

Syaoran's emails don't come very often, and when they do, they're painfully short. He hasn't written in almost a year now. Okay, I understand that he's busy and all, but _still_...it can't take more than five minutes to say hi, can it?

"Earth to Sakura!" Tomoyo snaps a finger in front of my face, jolting me back to reality. "Are you there?"

"Yeah," I force myself to answer. "Just thinking."

Tomoyo gives me a knowing look. She's about to say something when the morning bell goes. The teacher walks in, slams her books on the counter and well, no one else is supposed to be talking for the rest of the period but her.

* * *

Wow, chem is really lame. Not the subject. I mean the class. It's pathetic. Does no one else in this damn school give a damn about their futures? Here I am, trying to concentrate on what Takahashi-sensei is saying, and meanwhile, _everyone_ is fucking around like a bunch of losers. Gossiping, passing notes, doing their makeup...Tomoyo's actually doing her nails. I can smell the fucking nail polish and it's fucking killing my brain cells. 

"Class!" Takahashi-sensei explodes, her face going dangerously red. "You need to seriously _grow up_! Do you know in less than a year, you'll be out on your own? If you don't buck up and pay attention, you're going to miss out!"

Ah yes. It's always interesting when the teachers crack. Some of them use such colourful language. I casually cover my mouth with my hands, to hide the big grin on my face.

"I think _you're_ the one missing out!" some fucker calls out from the back of the room. "You're the one stuck at the front of the class, and I don't see how this organic chemistry crap is helping you!"

The class bursts into laughter. I see Takahashi-sensei's face go red and feel a bit bad for her. Like, come on. She's just doing her job. I glare at the stupid wanker who had called out at her. He's the same asshole who asked me out this morning. I recognize him as Tarou Yamame. He's in a couple of my classes and, unfortunately for me, he's brighter than he lets on.

"Keeping in mind that _I_ have the power to pass you or fail you, Yamame-san!" Takahashi-sensei says dangerously, and the class shut ups right away. "You bunch have the most disgusting manners that I've _ever_ come across! And I'll let you know, you're never going to land yourself a good job with attitudes like _that_!"

"I think I'm good," Tarou-the-Idiot retorts smarmily. I think his eyes flit over to me and he winks.

Oh, ew. Gross. Like, okay fine he's good-looking and all, but Takahashi-sensei's right about his attitude: it _sucks_. Just because he can pull a ninety average, he thinks he's something to be worshipped. Fucking cunt.

"I think your ego needs puncturing," Takahashi-sensei snaps back. I stifle a snort. This is why I love chemistry. "Class, open up your binders. I'm handing your tests back."

She opens her briefcase and picks up a pile of paper. She hands the tests back, making comments to each student on their performance.

"It's incredible that you don't know the composition of sodium laurel sulfate, Daidouji-san!" she snaps at Tomoyo, thrusting the offensive test into her hands. "It _is_ after all, an important component of shampoo!"

Oh ouch. Burn.

She comes to my desk and drops the test on my desk quite civilly.

"Excellent work, Kinomoto-san," she said, considerably more kindly and also quite _loudly_. I wince; the entire class is watching. "_Full _marks."

She walks off to yell at some guy on my left for failing. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Tarou Yamame staring at me, part resentfully, part _hungrily_?

I shudder. That pervert.

Okay, so I'm smarter than him. Big deal. He doesn't have to look at me like I'm sort of trophy or something.

The bell rings, signifying the end of the period. I gather my stuff hurriedly, wanting to get out of here as soon as possible.

Tarou Yamame, a.k.a. That Asshole stops at my desk, smirking a little as I shove my binder into my bag and struggle to zip it shut.

"Good job on that test," he says, every inch the cocky bastard he is. "What're you getting in chem, anyway?"

I shut my bag maliciously and swing it over my shoulder. As I turn to go, I answer without sparing him a glance.

"Way higher than you."

I begin to walk away. To my immense pleasure (not), he falls in step with me.

"Are you free Friday evening?" he asks me.

I scoff. So one rejection isn't enough for a day, is it?

"Nope," I retort. "And FYI, I don't date outside my species. Sorry."

And I hurry away from his as fast as possible, thanking Kami-sama for placing us in separate classes.

* * *

I reach Advanced Calc, pulling out my textbooks, pencils, calculators, the works. Arai-sensei gives me a funny look before clearing his throat. The class falls silent. 

"Clear off your desks. I'm handing out the tests now."

I freeze. _Fuck_. I'd forgotten about this test _completely_. What was it on again?

Arai-sensei placed four stapled sheets of paper on the corner of my desk before heading to his desk. I glance at the heading of the test.

_Differential Calculus_.

I sigh with relief. Differentiation. I can do that in my sleep. I grab my pencil and begin writing.

* * *

You know your life sucks when you start thanking Kami-sama for including calculus in your school life. Wow, this is pathetic. 

Arai-sensei gives me a smile as he collects my test. He probably thinks I'm like a long-lost daughter of his. Just because I've gotten perfect on all four unit tests so far...okay fine, I have the highest mark in the advanced class. Which consists of only seventeen people, so it's not that big of a deal or anything.

History and then lunch. I make my way to history slowly, preparing myself for Kimura-sensei's reaction when I ask her to go to the library to print my bibliography.

It's a bit of a relief when I bump into Tomoyo in the hallway.

"How'd it go?" I ask her. Bit of a stupid question. It's not like she pays attention in class. Well, at least to anything important.

"Kimura's not here," she informs me.

I'm relieved and irritated at the same time. Relieved because now I don't have to print off that stupid bibliography in the library for 20 yen. Irritated because I'd gotten up at six to work on this essay, and now it wasn't even due today! I groan, thinking of the good an extra half hour of sleep would have done me...

"Anyway, I have to run before Nakamura slams me for being late," Tomoyo says hastily.

"Okay, see you at lunch," I say automatically, giving her a big fake smile. Tomoyo dashes off. I wish she'd trip over those five-inch heels she wears all the time.

Don't call me bitter. I'm just stressed. And these fuckshits at this school have _no_ idea what I go through each day. Whenever someone complains about the amount of work we get, or says they were too busy to finish whatever they were too lazy to do, I feel like smacking them upside their empty little heads.

Here, priority falls less on the actual amount of schoolwork you do, and more on...other work. And no, I don't mean volunteering or getting a job.

I walk by Tarou and his eyes are immediately drawn to my chest.

I roll my eyes.

See what I mean?

* * *

Thank Kami-sama I'm almost home! It's just past nine in the evening, the snow's falling and I'm bloody _starving_. I haven't had anything decent to eat since that pasta I got for lunch. I hope Touya's dropped Dad's medicines home and made something decent for dinner, because I'm too tired to cook something up. 

I wrap my jacket tighter around myself as I get off of the bus and walk home. On the way, I pass Syaoran's old home, same as every day. Usually I don't notice it, but today I do. The lights in Syaoran's bedroom are on. There's only one explanation.

_He's here_.

I resist the urge to drop by and visit him. He's probably exhausted from the flight. Besides, he needs time to unpack and sleep. I can see him tomorrow. Maybe I'll drop by his house in the morning...

...or not.

There's movement by the gates. I hold my breath. It's probably a porter bringing a suitcase in. Either way, I did the stupid thing and went to check who it was.

"Hello?" I call out.

The person at the gate stiffens. It's a guy. A _tall_ guy.

Syaoran?

"Are you –?" I stutter. The night's cold, but I'm _warm_. More than warm. Feverishly hot, more like. I feel a bit dizzy.

The guy spins around and stares at me. The gates separate us and the light is really dim.

But I recognize him nonetheless.

_Syaoran!_

Oh Kami-sama, he looks the same! But so much older! And - _wow_...he's no kid anymore. He's fucking _hot_.

Forgive me, Kami-sama, for harbouring such impure thoughts about my best friend. But it's so true, I just _had_ to let it out somehow -

"What are you doing here?"

His voice isn't at all the way I remember it. It's gone all – cold and emotionless. And then I see his face. His eyes.

And I only know one thing.

He's not happy to see me.

Hurt wells up in me as I stare at him, open-mouthed, unable to believe it.

"Hello?" Syaoran's speaking again, his cold voice harsher. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I don't know how to answer. My mouth is opening and closing but no words are coming out. There's a colossal lump in my throat. There're no tears in my eyes, thank Kami-sama.

"Well, if you're just going to stand there and _stare_," he continues, turning around and taking the last suitcase in his hands, "go ahead. You're not getting anything from here."

And with that, he disappears into his house, and slams the door shut behind him.

I'm just left here standing, frozen like a statue.

_Syaoran..._my mind whispers over and over again. _He's changed so much..._

I force my legs to move. Wishing I'd never come here. Cursing myself for waiting for him for seven long years.

I think I can feel my heart breaking.

* * *

I toss my bag into a corner of my room and fling myself onto my bed, not even bothering to take off my socks. I'm not crying. I'm not, I swear I'm not. I'm just staring at the ceiling, and the light is making my eyes water. 

Kero lands beside me.

"You're crying," he remarks, handing me a tissue.

"No I'm not!" I snap, but wipe my eyes with the tissue anyway.

"Of course you aren't," Kero says dryly, and sits down in front of me. "What happened?"

I want to brush it all off nonchalantly and say _Nothing_, but I can't. All I can see is Syaoran's face, his goddamned beautiful face, _leering_ at me. Staring at me like I was something foreign – something _beneath_ him. His cold, harsh words are echoing in my head repeatedly, driving me mad. His eyes are staring at me, still large, still amber, still with curling long thick eyelashes -

"Hello in there!" Kero calls. "What happened?"

I can't just say _Nothing_. I can't. A tear slips out of my eyes, and I wipe it away quickly. It never existed.

"Syaoran..." I let out slowly, biting my lip.

Kero stiffens to attention.

"The kid?" he asks, his eyes narrowing. "Did he do something?"

"No," I choke out before the tears spill out, more noisily. I cover my face with my hands and let myself cry.

Kero watches me sadly, shaking his head. He doesn't patronize me or tell me that I'm being stupid for expecting Syaoran to remember me as anything more than 'that annoying girl from Tomoeda'.

_What the hell are you doing here..._

I wish I knew...

_You're not getting anything from here_...

Those words snap something in my mind. Before I know it, I'm angry. Angry at Syaoran for making me wait all this time for him, only to break my heart by the end of it. Fuck him. I'm stronger than this. I've put up with stuff before. Who the hell is he and what right does he have to make me this upset?

I wipe my tears away violently, get off the bed and turn on my computer. I check my email. There's a new message in my inbox.

It's from Lang. You know, _Leader of Plums_? The guy who posted my first review? Yeah, him. He's been my beta for a couple of years now.

I open it eagerly, trying to get my head off of stupid Syaoran. It's a bit difficult because I can see the lights on in his stupid fucking room. I think I can make out a silhouette standing by the window, just looking out...

Shit. He's probably looking at my room. Thinking to himself, 'Gee, that's where the stupid redhead bitch lives. Let's think of five thousand ways to avoid her'. Fucking bastard.

I get up and close the curtains. Ha. Try seeing through _those_, Mr. Cunt. You may go burn in hell now.

I stick my tongue out at my window and sit back down at my desk, feeling a bit more cheerful.

I read Lang's message eagerly.

_Hey Sayuri_, he greeted. Well, he knows that's not my real name. And Lang's not his real name. But we couldn't go around greeting each other as _Cheery Blossom_ and _Leader of Plums_ all the time. It got weird. So I just told him to call me Sayuri (you know, from _Memoirs_? She's only my favourite literary character _ever_) and he told me to call him Lang. Safe Internet aliases, in case he turns out to be a stalker or rapist or something.

_Sorry for the late reply. I've just moved and for the last two weeks, the Internet connection was down. It's a good thing you sent me all those chapters in advance._

_I have your three one-shots done, as well as the first chapter to the new story you were planning. It sounds really cute. Go over it with me sometime, okay? I'm online from eight to midnight._

_Anyway, real life calls. Talk to you later._

_Lang._

I glance at the clock. Quarter past nine. He's probably online right now. Without thinking, I sign onto the _Fanfiction Corner_ and check my stats.

Over the last seven years, I've written over fifty different stories. A lot of them are one-shots, but I've completed about twenty full-length stories. My biggest hit, _Dreaming of You_, a tragic angsty romance spanning thirty chapters in length, just topped eight thousand reviews. I smirk to myself. Yeah, that's right. Jaded, boring bookworm Sakura is actually a super famous fanfiction author. Who'd ever guess?

Just then, a conversation window opens. I glance at it. It's Lang.

He says, _Hi_.

I crack the first genuinely happy smile I've smiled all day long, and respond.

_Hey_.

He answers immediately.

_Oh good, you're on._

I raise both of my eyebrows as I reply.

_Of course I'm online._

His response is a bit unusual.

_I was getting bored. I just moved and now I'm stuck in the house with my cousin who's driving me mad!_

I chuckle a little.

_Try an older brother. Those are permanent._

His answer seems a bit petulant.

_Unfortunately, this cousin is permanent too._

_You live with your cousin?_ I ask, immediately feeling sorry for him. If Lang's cousin is anything like Touya when he's in one of his moods...

_Yeah_, Lang replies. _Anyway, what's up with you? Your new story seems really interesting. I think it's going to be even bigger than 'DoY'._

_All thanks to your incredible betaing skills_, I flatter him a little. It's true. He's such an amazing beta. Okay so usually my chapters come back with more red text than black, but it's so worth it!

_Your writing is just so much more fun to edit_, he writes sincerely. _But then again, I __have__ been following your stories for years._

_Since you're my GREATEST fan_, I tease him.

_Of course I am, and don't you forget it_, Lang points out. _Look over the chapters I sent you and tell me if you have any questions_.

_Will do_, I tell him. _I'm planning on doing quite a bit of writing tonight too, so you'll be busy soon._

_Ok_, he writes. _School will be getting crazy so it might take a bit of time to edit._

_No problem_, I respond._ I might write another oneshot today._

_Another one?_ I can practically hear Lang's disbelief. _Is it going to be more or less depressing than the last three?_

_More_, I inform him. _I had a rough day today._

_So __that's__ the secret behind Sayuri's success_, he jokes. _When the going gets tough, the tough gets writing. Is that it?_

_More or less_, I type, snorting. Typical Lang. He's so real for some stranger I met over the Internet. As a matter of fact, he's the most genuine person I know. That's saying something, considering that I don't even know him.

_Anyway, writing calls and I've got a giant pile of homework too. I'll talk to you soon, k?_

Lang's farewell comes a second later.

_K. Have fun._

_You wish_. I smile before signing off of the _Fanfiction Corner_.

I open an empty Word document and within moments, I'm pouring the contents of my poor shattered heart onto the screen. Tears are bright in my eyes as I'm writing, but I make sure to not cry.

The phone rings, startling me. It's ten o'clock. Who calls at this hour?

...more specifically, who calls _me_ at this hour?

I glance at the door. Dad's sleeping. The phone might wake him up. Sighing, I pick up the receiver by my bed.

"Kinomoto residence."

"Sakura, is that you?"

It's a male voice. I can't recognize it. Could it be Syaoran? My heart skips a beat as I answer.

"Yeah. Who's this?"

"It's Tarou," the guy replies.

I freeze. _Fuck..._

"How'd you get my number?" I ask him sharply.

"Eriol," Tarou replies. "Listen, so uh, I had a question about that English assignment we got today..."

And for the next quarter of an hour, I was forced to sit there and explain the assignment to him. Like honestly, it wasn't that difficult.

"Thanks," Tarou says gratefully after I'm done explaining. "You don't know how long it took me to..."

And now he's off, launching into some long story about something or other. I yawn and continue writing, his chatting still in my ears.

At one point there's silence, broken by Tarou's "Sakura?"

Shit. He'd just asked me a question.

"Sure. Whatever," I reply absently into the phone, typing away on my growing oneshot.

"Really?" Tarou's voice grows delighted. "Wow! Awesome! Um, we'll hook up sometime then?"

I stop writing.

_What the fuck did I just agree to?_

"Hook up?" I repeat, as innocently as I can.

"Yeah, like dates and stuff?" Tarou says patiently. "You know, what normal people do when they go out?"

Waitwaitwait WHAT?

"Going out?" I ask weakly.

"Sakura, stop playing dumb," Tarou snaps over the phone. "I'll meet you tomorrow after school, alright?"

"I have work," I say quickly, trying to find a way out of this. Did I just agree to _go out_ with Tarou Yamame? How the _fuck_ could I have missed that?!

"Well fine, I'll meet up with you on Saturday then," Tarou says. "I'll see you tomorrow...girlfriend."

And he hangs up.

I stare at the receiver wide-eyed, unable to move. Frozen in horror.

Then, I let out a scream.

Kero jumps up in alarm.

I press _redial_ and wait for the phone to ring. I've got to call Tarou back and break this off! I can't go out with him! It was a mistake, an innocent mistake! I didn't agree to be his girlfriend, I didn't!

But, to my utter despair, the phone line is busy. Tarou's probably busy phoning his friends, letting them know that he'd succeeded in asking me out.

I groan and slam the receiver onto the table. By morning, the _entire_ school would know that I, Sakura Kinomoto, That Smart Bitch, am now apparently going out with Tarou Yamame, That Asshole.

This is my fucked-up life.

Kami-Sama _hates_ me...

-

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I'm sure it's common knowledge that I don't own _Card Captor Sakura_... 

**a/n:** Well, how'd you like it? I'm trying to include a lot of Sakura's real life before focusing on her relationship with "Lang". As you can see...she's one stressed-out teenager. And as for the "reunion" with Syaoran and the rather unexpected (I hope) problem of Sakura landing herself an OC boyfriend...it'll all be explained soon.

This chapter was a bit short. Next chapter's going to be much longer, I promise. And it's not going to be _quite_ as humourous (well, if this chapter counts as funny, I dunno), as things start to get a bit serious. As you can see, the stage has been set for the SxS breakup, so you can expect to see...quite a bit of hate in the next few chapters. **-sighs**-

I'm still trying to decide where exactly I want to go with this. Ideas, suggestions, feedback, scene requests, etc... are all welcomed with open arms. Please do take the moment to review. I promise I'll update if you do. However, I will be out of town this weekend, with no Internet access so updates before Monday are highly unlikely, I'm afraid... That too, next week's looking busy for me, because I have a lab report, two unit tests and a quiz next week. So if I mysteriously disappear for a week (I highly doubt it though), please don't kill me. I'm only trying to maintain the whopping 107 that I've got in physics right now. **-cough-**

**Next Chapter:** The encounter with Sakura...from the POV of Syaoran! Find out why he acted the way he did in this chapter and whether you'll still hate him by then. Also, things get a bit ugly when Syaoran finds out from a "trustworthy source" that Sakura's got a boyfriend... Can Sakura break it off with Tarou in time? Look for it next chapter, in _Plunge_.

**Please do review! I'm trying to maintain 30 reviews a chapter. Think you love me enough to do it for me:D**

**_-Celestiana_**


	3. Plunge

_**Literary..**_

_**-**_

**Summary: **Sakura is a famous fanfiction author. Syaoran is the best beta she's ever had. They share a world made of the words and tales they weave and write. But they don't know that they know each other...in real life.

_**-**_

**Full Summary: **He promised he'd come back for her. She promised to wait for him. But a misunderstanding creates a giant rift between Sakura and Syaoran, enough to break the powerful friendship they once shared. To escape fate's blows, Sakura seeks solace in fanfiction and soon becomes a famous author on the busy _Fanfiction Corner, _under the alias Sayuri. She's lucky enough to meet Lang, and he becomes her greatest fan, faithful beta, and online buddy/soulmate. Wait until she finds out that "Lang" is really Syaoran, the cause of all her troubles...

**-**

**a/n:** 64! I love you all to no end, I seriously do! I'm so sorry for the long update gap, but I've been quite busy. Balancing summer school, writing two other fics, working on a giant 4000 word essay, _and_ looking up a bunch of stuff for university...yeah, it eats into my writing time a bit.

But to make up for the gaps between updates, I've made this chapter extra long. I was originally going to cut it after the **-counts-** fourth POV change, but then decided to make things longer.

Anyway, this chapter contains the POVs of both Syaoran and Sakura, so you know what they're both thinking. There's no Sayuri/Lang interaction in this chapter, sorry! But I promise a lot of it in the coming chapters. I just needed to lay the conflict down bare, so you guys know what's going on.

**Enjoy!!**

* * *

Chapter Two. Plunge

-

**Syaoran's POV**

-

I slam the front door shut behind me, dropping the last suitcase on the ground. Meiling looks at me, her eyebrows furrowing a little.

"Don't slam the door so loudly," she reproaches softly. "You'll break down the house!"

"Sorry," I apologize, running a hand through my hair distractedly.

"You look irritated," she observes, getting up and walking over to me. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," I say, thinking of that girl outside. "There was some weird girl outside. Probably a saleslady or something. She caught my attention and then wouldn't even say a word after! Who the hell does that?"

Meiling sniggers a little.

"Sounds like a new ploy to get donations or something," she snorts lightly.

I roll my eyes.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. I'll be in my room. Don't bug me."

Meiling pouts, but I brush past her and head up to my room. I close the door shut behind me, wishing I had a lock. Then I look over my room. The computer is calling me. I can't resist it. So I sink in front of it, turn it on and check if my Internet access is back.

Yup.

My face breaks into a scowl as I check my inbox. Hm. Emails from the Elders. Emails from the Elders. More emails from the Elders.

No surprises there.

Okay. I sign out of that account and then sign back in using my secondary account.

One new message from Sayuri.

I open it. It reads,

_Lang,_

_You've been taking a while with those last chapters I sent you. Is everything okay?_

_- Sayuri_

I check the date on the email. She sent it exactly four days ago. I've been without Internet for two weeks. And I forgot to let her know.

Shit.

Okay, no problems. I'll just send her all of the stuff I betaed for her. She won't freak out.

I type up a reply, apologizing for my lateness and explaining my life-without-Internet-for-two-weeks dilemma. I attach the four files she sent me earlier and send my message.

Work complete. I sign out of my email account and then check _The Fanfiction Corner _if Sayuri's on.

I'm not obsessing over her or in love with her or anything. She's just a friend and one of the most brilliant authors I've ever met. I love reading her stuff. She doesn't make everything all girly and fluffy like a lot of the stuff I read, but everything's just right.

...I'm not convincing anyone here, am I?

Bah, just forget it.

My gaze flits to my window, where I can see a small house, not that far away. All of its windows are still dark. I glance at the clock. It's almost nine fifteen. Does anybody still live there? Or did she move away?

Ah – no wait, her bedroom lights just flickered on. She's home! _Damn_, she took a long time to get home! Where was she all day?

I scramble right in front of my window, trying to get a glimpse of her. But her window's too far away and my eyes don't have telescopic vision like Meiling's do. I can see a faint silhouette of her. My heart's beating with excitement. I haven't seen Sakura in seven years. I haven't had time to write to her much, but whenever I had a free moment, I'd always go over the lengthy emails she sent me. I missed her so much over these years -

Hey, she shut her curtains all of a sudden! Just like that!

I frown. Why'd she shut them all of a sudden? Knowing Sakura, she _hated_ keeping her windows closed...

Feeling just a bit hurt, I flop down onto my bed. I'm staring at the framed picture which was the first thing I attached to the wall when I got here. It's a picture of Sakura and I. We're both ten years old. Sakura's still clinging to my arm, her head's leaning against my shoulder. We're both laughing heartily over something – I think it was after Tomoyo took a weird picture of us. I can't even remember what that picture looked like. Sakura has it. I'll see it at her house sometime soon, I resolve.

Attached to the frame is a comb. It's amber with a faded fabric blossom attached to it. It used to be hers. I didn't know where else to safely keep it, so I kept it on the picture of us. In Hong Kong, the picture used to stand by my bedstand, so that when I woke up in the morning, it would be the first thing I saw.

I can be such a crazy little boy at times. Wow.

A small alert goes off on the computer. I go and check. Someone on my friends list on _Fanfiction Corner_ has just signed in.

I check the penname.

_Cheery Blossom_.

Sayuri!

I open a conversation window.

_Hi_, I greet her. I could use a little bit of company right now. Since I got shut off by Sakura.

A moment later, Sayuri replies back.

_Hey_, she says.

-

Talking with Sayuri always makes me feel better. It's strange, really. Getting up from a conversation, feeling so much lighter. You never really realize just how heavy you felt in there in the first place.

Shaking my head, I glance out the window again. Sakura's lights are still on, but her curtains are still drawn. The funniest part is that I can still see her shadow, very faintly. She's sitting, I think. Maybe doing her homework or something.

I glance at the clock. Ten thirty. Maybe I should be getting some sleep. After all, I have school tomorrow. It's going to feel so weird going back to school in Tomoeda. I can barely remember anyone from here. Sakura and her crazy brother, and I remember Yukito because he turned out to be Yue. Eriol, of course – he went back to England around the time I went to Hong Kong. We stayed in touch and he'd informed me that he was returning to Tomoeda a couple of years ago. There was that girl who was Sakura's best friend, Tomoyo. The one who'd design all those crazy costumes and videotape all of our card capturing escapades.

Those were the days, I think to myself. I wonder how Sakura's faring, being Card Master and all that. Must be difficult to balance that on top of high school and everything.

I check my schedule, which Wei picked up for me at the school earlier today. I have eight subjects. Chemistry, advanced calculus, history, physics, English, biology and PE. Six subjects to a day. Tomorrow's Friday, so I have advanced calculus first period.

I frown. Sakura's not going to be in advanced calculus. She hates math.

Then after calculus, I have physics. Fun. She's probably not going to be taking physics either.

And then after that, I've got history. Would she be taking history? Somehow, I didn't think so...

Lunch after history. Well, she'd have lunch, for sure. Maybe I'd see her then.

Biology after lunch. Whose idea was that? What if we're doing dissections? I pray that Sakura takes biology.

And after biology is English. Well, Sakura would definitely be taking English. I just get that feeling. But would she have it at the same time as me? That'd be a stretch. But I hope so. I really do. I also hope the seat next to her is empty.

Last period of the day: PE. I grin. Well, Sakura's _definitely_ taking PE. It's her best subject. I just have to close my eyes and I can see her on the racetrack. Her eyes are determined and her mouth set in a grim line. Her legs flying out one in front of the other so fast, she's way out in front of the rest of the runners.

There's a bit of a commotion in Meiling's room. I wonder what's going on. Ever since I got here, she's been on the phone nonstop. It's fucking ridiculous. How do you talk to someone for so long?

I turn off the lights and try to go to sleep, but I can't. Meiling's talking too loudly. I can practically hear every single word she's saying. I groan and roll my eyes as her words bounce off the base of my skull.

"_...are you serious? How'd that happen? That's crazy, you'd never see that coming. Especially not with _him_, too..._"

After she goes on in that vein for five minutes, I decide I've had enough. I fling my covers off of me, jump onto the floor and walk over to her room as fast as I can. Pulling the door open, I see Meiling swivelling around on her chair, receiver in hand.

"Do you mind shutting up?" I roar at her. "It's only eleven o'clock and I'm trying to get some sleep!"

Meiling gets the hint. She says, "Sorry, I'll call you back later," to whoever's on the other end and hangs up quickly. I turn around to leave, shaking my head, but then Meiling stops me.

"There's something I think you should know," she says, uncharacteristically grimly.

I freeze and then whirl around on her.

"And what would that be?" I ask her dryly. "My pajama bottoms don't match with my shirt?"

She rolls her eyes.

"I won't even get started on that," she huffs. "You remember Sakura, right?"

_Sakura_! My heart leaps, but I keep my face neutral.

"Yeah, of course. Why?"

Meiling bites her lip. Uh-oh. That's never a good sign. A nervous Meiling is usually followed by bad news. _Really_ bad news.

"Um..." Meiling ponders for a bit, trying to get her words out.

"Yes?" I prompt her, but she's still as painfully slow as ever.

"Uh, the thing is," she says quickly, "she'sgoingoutwithsomeone."

I cock an eyebrow.

"Pardon?"

Meiling sighs.

"She's going out with someone," she repeats, enunciating each word slowly so that I can't mistake her words.

The problem is, I think I must have heard them wrong. Did she just say that..._Sakura_...was going _out_ with someone?

"When you say _going out_..." I try to clarify, "you don't really mean _going out_...do you?"

Meiling's getting impatient.

"I mean that when Tarou asked her to be his girlfriend, she said yes!" she bursts out. "He just asked her tonight, not even an hour ago..."

_Tonight. Not even an hour ago._

There's no way. There's no fucking way.

I came back for her. I promised her I'd come back for her, and I did. She told me she'd wait for me.

Why didn't she wait?

Just one more day. She could have waited just one more day.

But she didn't. She had to go ahead with another guy.

I leave Meiling's room and go back to mine. I slump down on my bed.

I feel oddly empty all over. And then anger forms in the pit of my stomach as I gaze at the picture of the two of us, still hanging on the wall.

I came back for her.

But she didn't wait for me.

-

**Sakura's POV**

-

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Fucking alarm. Fucking last night. Fucking long day ahead of me. I'd better get up now before things get any worse. I hope the ceiling hasn't fallen in or something.

I crack an eye open, glancing around my room quickly. Nope. Room still in one piece. That's good.

I glance at the clock. It's seven thirty.

_Seven thirty?!_ What the hell? I set my alarm for _six_ thirty, not _seven_ -

Damn. Shit. Fuck. Hell. Not good. I stumble out of bed, trying to untangle myself from my covers and pajamas, and pulling on random pieces of my uniform here and there. I grab my bag and race down the stairs two at a time, doing up the buttons of my blouse as I go. My tie's slung around my neck, my kilt isn't even straight. I slide into the kitchen, doing my hair up busily. To my immense relief, Touya's in the kitchen frying up pancakes.

"You're late," he nods to me. "Rough night?"

"Yeah," I said, grimacing as I sat down and did up my tie. "Four hours' worth of sleep. Again."

Touya scoops up a pancake and tosses it onto a plate, which he places in front of me.

"Eat," he orders simply, turning back to the stove.

"But-"

He whirls on me, a steely glint in his eyes.

"When I'm not around, you don't eat properly. I heard you didn't even eat dinner last night!"

"Who told you that?" I ask him, reluctantly cutting up the pancakes.

"Dad," Touya said simply. "He wasn't asleep all that time, you know. If you were too tired to make dinner, you could have just asked him."

"Yeah but..." I mumble, my mouth full of pancake. Kami-sama, it tastes so good! Especially because I was so starving, I thought my stomach would have started eating itself.

"So what are you doing here?" I ask conversationally, trying to change the subject. "Exams over or something?"

"Yup," Touya says, flipping another pancake and tossing it onto my plate. "Midterms finished early, so I'm bunking here for the next couple of weeks."

"Excellent," I say, feeling just a bit lighter. "So can I have the car, then?"

"That depends." Touya frowns as he switches off the stove, empties the contents of the frying pan onto his plate, and then undoes his apron. "Where do you have to go?"

"School," I reply, gulping down the pancake. "And then the clinic. And then home. It takes forever to bus, you know?"

"Yeah." Touya's frown deepens as he sits down across from me and starts wolfing down his own breakfast. Whatever he says, I know that he's just about as hungry as I am. He's been skipping meals too.

"Listen," he blurts out suddenly, "I'll drive you today, okay? I don't think it's safe for you to drive when you're so weak and tired."

I gape at him.

"Touya, I'm _fine_," I insist, but he won't hear any of it.

"If I had my way, you wouldn't even be working after school," he growls, crossing his arms. "But since we're desperate here..."

Shit. He's getting emotional now. I think I'd give anything for him to be his usual mean, bullying self. But unfortunately, things are a little bit too tense at home for us to be joking around.

"Okay, fine," I relent, because his jaw is clenching in that unmistakeably big-brother way.

He nods.

"I'll get the car."

Moments later, I'm sitting in the front seat of Touya's car. I'm glad he offered to drive. The weather's wet and grey and gloomy. I hate taking the bus in this weather. I would have gotten soaked. I also hate driving in this weather. The road gets too slippery, plus Touya's right. I _am_ exhausted. I can't go five minutes without yawning.

"You're not going to be late for class, are you?" Touya inquires as we pull into my school parking lot, half an hour later.

I shrug.

"I have an appointment with the guidance office right now, so I was going to be late anyway," I reassure him. "Don't worry about it."

He nods.

"Call me if you need me," he orders.

"You know I will." I smile at him. "Thanks for the ride, Touya."

He merely grunts in response as I shut the door and make my way into the school.

The hallways are deserted. Fuck. I'm really, really late. What day is it today? Oh, Friday. Thank Kami-sama it's Friday. I've got advanced calculus first period, so it doesn't matter if I'm late. Arai-sensei will understand. Sometimes, it pays to be on a teacher's good side.

I nearly walk right by my locker. Then I catch a glimpse of the numbers and frown.

That's my locker. But the one next to it isn't bolted anymore. It's got a lock on it, same as mine and the one next to it.

Damn it. Now I don't have an easy way of remembering which locker is mine.

Glaring at the locker next to mine, I shove my purse and jacket into my locker, deposit the books I don't need and grab the ones I do. Then I rush off to the guidance office. I have to talk to them about financial help, as much as I rather wouldn't. But with Dad's treatment going on and stuff, I need help planning if I want to go to university.

Yeah that's right. I'm seventeen years old and worrying about keeping the house going. Don't you dare feel sorry for me.

-

**Syaoran's POV**

-

It feels so strange being back in school here. Almost everyone looks familiar. I think I met at least half of these people the last time I came here, and the rest I must've seen in the halls every day. Meiling introduces me to her friends. I nod politely and they all giggle. Well, the girls do. The guys just clap me on the shoulder and try to act chummy. Whatever.

It doesn't take me long to figure out that everyone at this damned school is bleeding fake. The sincerity that made this town charming when I was younger has disappeared. Instead, the people here are cardboard cutouts of the people they used to be. They've gotten older, but they haven't gotten any wiser. And forget civil, most of them are a pain to be around.

Dear Kami-sama. Why the hell did I ever come here again?

Oh yeah. Because I _promised_ Sakura I'd come back for her. Well, guess what? I got cheated there too. Not only did she fucking not wait for me like she promised she would, she's also nowhere to be seen this morning.

Out of sight, out of mind. Or so they say.

Yeah, right. Ever since I stepped into the school, I've heard one thing on everyone's lips. The same old "breaking news". Tarou Somebody managed to ask out _the_ Sakura Kinomoto! OMG! (insert dripping sarcasm here).

I slam my locker door shut with a vengeance. The noise echoes through the hallway, shutting up the students. A couple of them give me a nervous glance, but I ignore them.

I have more important things on my mind. Namely: what am I going to do if I see Sakura? Do I just pretend that nothing's wrong? Like she _hasn't_ betrayed me and gone back on her word?

Nope. No way in hell. I'm fucking _mad_ at her, and until she breaks it off with that slug of a boyfriend she's got and gives me an apology, I'm not talking to her.

Fuck her.

I shake my head. It's a good thing no one can hear my thoughts. They'd be appalled at the kind of foul language that runs through the mind of the almighty Syaoran Li.

The warning bell goes.

"I'll meet you in history," Meiling whispers to me. She has chemistry first period, so we part ways. I glance at the different room numbers, stopping in front of the room where my Advanced Calculus class is located.

I step inside. There aren't that many students here. Probably not enough students good enough to get here, I think to myself. Math's always been my best subject. Especially calculus. I love calculus. Makes me sound a bit like a nerd, doesn't it?

"You must be Li-san," a deep voice says from behind me.

I spin around. There's a man about my height grinning at me. He's youngish and looks friendly enough. I'm guessing he's the teacher.

"Yes, that's me," I say, more gruffly than I intended. "Uh – I don't have the textbooks yet -"

"I'll give those to you right away," he says. "In the meanwhile, grab a seat. There's one right there at the front."

He stalks out of the room and I glance at the seats. There're two empty seats in the classroom. One's right up in front of the teacher's desk. The other one's right behind it. I grab the seat further away from the teacher's desk. I may love math, but I'm not comfortable sitting up in front of teachers like that. Doesn't look like anyone's sitting here anyway. The morning bell's gone off and no one else is in the hallway.

Arai-sensei returns. He beckons to me and I go to his desk.

"Just initial here," he says, pointing to a sheet with my name on it. I oblige, and he presses two heavy textbooks into my arms. Wow, they're heavier than I expected.

"Thanks...?" I mutter.

"We're starting integration today," he explains. "We just finished basic differentiation. The students wrote their test yesterday. Would you want to look at it?"

I shrug. "Sure."

He fumbles around on his desk and passes me four sheets of paper, stapled together.

"There you go," he says.

I nod my thanks and head back to my seat. I thumb through the pages of the test, glancing at the questions. They aren't as easy as I thought they'd be, but I can still solve them. No problem. This class should be a breeze.

Arai-sensei clears his throat and there's silence in the class.

"We'll be starting integration today," he announces. "Now, if you'll open the red book and turn to page three sixty-eight..."

For the next twenty minutes, he goes through the lesson. I'm hooked. I love math. And this stuff is easy. Finally, he assigns the homework (which is four pages long, I might add) and heads back to his desk amidst loud groans from the students.

I'm halfway through the third question when there's a knock at the door. Arai-sensei gets the door.

"Sorry I'm late, Arai-sensei," says an unfamiliar voice. "I had an appointment with guidance..."

"No problem, Kinomoto-san," Arai-sensei says warmly and I sit up straight, trying to hear better. _Kinomoto-san_? "Come in."

The girl obliges and steps into the classroom. I'm watching her out of the corner of my eye. Slim, average height with deep red hair tied back in a – okay, she's coming closer. Breathe, Syaoran. In and out.

Is that Sakura? It has to be. How many other _Kinomoto-san_s would be in this school?

But – but – what's _Sakura_ doing in the advanced calculus class? From what I remember, she _hated_ math! (And wasn't that great at it too, but let's keep that quiet).

Maybe she's just sitting in on a lesson. Or coming to grab something for another teacher. Yeah, that makes sense. I sneak a glance around the classroom. No one else seems unduly concerned.

Then, as I turn back to my work, someone approaches me. I look up. The girl's standing right next to me.

Pale translucent skin. Deep red hair. Wide green eyes.

That's definitely Sakura.

And she's standing right in front of me.

Before I can stop myself, I blurt something out. Something I really didn't want to say.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

-

**Sakura's POV**

-

It's almost half an hour into first period as I leave guidance. I'm feeling a bit better. My counsellor took one look at my marks, beamed at me and told me not to worry.

"With grades like these, you'll have more than enough scholarships to cover your debts!" she announced.

Well, that's reassuring to know. But just in case, we went over different scholarships and bursaries I could apply for. Different banks that gave specials on student loans, just in case things didn't work out the way I'd planned.

But I'm definitely feeling lighter as I make my way to calculus. I'm not going to go broke while trying to finance my university life. That's comforting to know, since the family coffers have been a bit empty since Dad's treatment started.

I brush these worrying thoughts from my head as I reach Arai-sensei's classroom and knock on the door. Moments later, he opens it himself.

"Sorry I'm late, Arai-sensei," I say quickly. "I had an appointment with guidance..."

He brushes it off and shakes his head.

"No problem, Kinomoto-san," he says, trademark grin in place (see? I _knew_ he loves me...well, not _that_ way. Ew! Definitely not that way! Oh yuck...) "Come in."

He opens the door for me as I walk in. I nod my head in thanks as he walks back to his desk. He gathers a pile of papers and starts handing them out.

Oh Kami-sama. The tests from yesterday.

Praying that I hadn't ruined my streak yesterday, I pick my way through the desks to make my way to my seat.

There's just a tiny problem. Someone's already sitting in it.

And it's not just anyone.

It's Syaoran.

Before I can think of anything else to say, his head snaps up. He stares at me for a few seconds, and I wonder if he recognizes me. His eyes are just the way I remember them. I feel myself melting a little. Then I remember his coldness from yesterday. The way he slammed the door in my face. And then I feel myself flaring up.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Syaoran asks abruptly.

I narrow my eyes at him. I don't like the way he said that. Especially with the emphasis on '_you_'.

"I could ask you the same question," I reply, glaring at him. "You're sitting in my seat."

His mouth _drops_. Literally. If I hadn't been so angry with him, I would have been giggling. Still...why does he look as though someone's dropped a frying pan on his head? I shrug inwardly. Who cares? Since he's graciously decided to take my seat, I toss him one last look of intense dislike before seating myself at the desk in front of his with as much dignity as I can muster.

I open the red book to the pages written on the board and examine the questions. Oh good. Integration. I know this stuff. I pull out my pencil, open my notebook to a blank page and start doing the homework.

I can still feel Syaoran's eyes burning into the back of my head. I hear him murmur something that makes me stiffen.

"What was that?" I snap as I turn around in my seat to face him.

He blinks. Twice.

"What was what?" he asks, rather coolly.

"I heard you say something," I say slowly, staring him down. "Something about me, math, and not being very good at it."

He shrugs.

"Yeah, something like that," he says casually.

My temper snaps.

"Notice that I'm sitting in the _advanced_ calculus room, along with you?" I inquire, straining to keep my voice low and even. It's not working.

"That's why I'm surprised," Syaoran replies. His eyes are cold and boring into mine. "Because, from what I remember, you were hopeless with numbers."

I open my mouth to throw a hot retort back at him, but something even better happens. Arai-sensei, with amazingly _perfect_ timing, walks beside my desk and lays something on top of my notebook. My test from yesterday,

"Well done, Kinomoto-san," he says in a voice loud enough for Syaoran to hear. "Full marks, as usual. Doesn't it get boring after a while?"

I laugh, imagining the look on Syaoran's face right now as he hears this. I shake my head as I pick up my test and glance at the red _100_ scribbled on top of it in big loopy writing.

"No, not really," I reply as casually as I can. Arai-sensei grins at me and sits down.

I shuffle through the test, the giant red checkmarks raising my spirits. I turn to face Syaoran. He's still gaping at me. The look on his face makes me feel like giggling. So I giggle.

"You were saying?"

Damn, this feels good!

-

**Syaoran's POV**

-

The bell goes, signalling the end of calculus. I grab my stuff and rush out the door before Sakura's finished even gathering all of her stuff.

As soon as I put as much distance between her and myself, I begin to organize my thoughts.

Most importantly...

What the _fuck_ happened to Sakura?! Math's her _least_ favourite subject! I know that! I was the one helping her study back in the fifth grade! _I_ was the one who had to listen to her moan about how she was going to drop it the moment she didn't need it anymore.

So what's she fucking doing in the _advanced calculus_ class?

WITH A 100 AVERAGE??

I can't forget that look she gave me when she got that test back. It was so..._smug_ and malicious at the same time. Something's wrong with her. She's definitely changed.

And it's not for the better.

My thoughts turn to what Meiling told me yesterday. To the rumours I'd heard this morning. About her getting a new boyfriend.

I feel my insides boil as I enter the physics classroom. I talk to Morioka-sensei and he gets me to sign out another two textbooks. He points to an empty desk, somewhere near the middle of the classroom. _Fuck_, these books are heavy!

My attention snaps to the door. Sakura's walking through it. She glances around the classroom, spots me and walks over.

_What the hell?_

She slams something on my desk with a muttered "you-left-it-in-the-calculus-classroom". I look down. It's my calculator. Must've forgotten it in my rush. Whoops.

I look up. She's sitting down at a desk, way on the other side of the classroom. Pulling out one of the textbooks I'd been given two minutes ago, and flipping pages in another notebook.

She takes physics too. I shake my head a little as Morioka-sensei starts the lesson.

Yup, she's _definitely_ changed.

-

**Sakura's POV**

-

Thank you Kami-sama for helping me get that 96 in physics. It's nowhere near the 100 I have in calculus, but thank you, thank you, _thank you_ for giving me a decent mark nonetheless.

I shudder as I head over to history. I managed to get Tomoyo to print my bibliography for me yesterday, so at least I managed to save myself 20 yen. Sadly, physics was the worst experience ever. Tarou takes physics with me and he sits not too far from me. I avoided him the whole time and when the bell rang, I just rushed out of the room without talking to him.

My steps slow as I turn into the history corridor. I can't keep running away from my problems like this. I have to break it to Tarou that I don't want to go out with him, and agreeing to was just a misunderstanding on my part. The sooner, the better.

He doesn't have history, but we have the same lunch. I'll find him then and talk to him alone before the rumours start getting ridiculous.

Meanwhile, Syaoran's driving me mad. I'm beginning to think that whatever "training" he had to do in Hong Kong, it didn't do him much of a favour. He's come back all cold and unfeeling and egotistical, like every other male specimen in this school. Who cares if he's hot? Fuck him.

I stop in my tracks.

_Who cares if he's hot?_

I shake my head a little.

_You've cracked_, I tell myself firmly, before reaching my classroom and turning into it.

Oh good, Kimura-sensei's here today.

Oh shit, she's giving a textbook to Syaoran and pointing him to an empty desk that's _right beside mine_.

Fuck. Meiling sits on my other side.

I'm trapped in between Syaoran and Meiling.

I pull my essay out of my bag, drop it on Kimura-sensei's desk and then walk over to my desk. I slam my bag onto my desk vindictively. Syaoran's looking a bit startled, but I don't care as I collapse onto my chair and bury my head in my hands.

Dear Kami-sama. Why don't you pick on someone else for a change? I'm fucking tired of this...

-

**Syaoran's POV**

-

I think Kimura-sensei gave me the worst seat in the whole classroom. Right in between Sakura and the window. Perfect for stimulating ADD on hot summer days...or cold November mornings.

Talk about being trapped in between a rock and a hard place.

It's kind of funny. The whole time, Sakura's bent over scribbling notes, or deliberately not looking at me. What the hell's her problem anyway? What did I ever do to her to make her act like such a _bitch_?

Okay, maybe it was because I took her seat in calculus. That might've pissed her off. But she seemed to be angry at me from before...

The bell rings. Lunchtime. Clearing my head of this shit, I pick up my bag, walk over to Meiling's desk (Sakura's taking her time closing her books and putting them in her bag) and we walk out of the history room.

"How's it going so far?" she asks me hesitantly.

I shrug as I stop by my locker. I dump all the textbooks into it and slam it shut. Meiling winces as the sound echoes across the hallway.

"You know, you've got to stop taking your anger out on doors," she quips conversationally.

I roll my eyes.

"Come on," I mutter. I can see Sakura turning down the hallway. The last thing I need is to see her again today.

Meiling follows my gaze, frowns a little and walks with me.

"She's changed a lot," Meiling says thoughtfully. "She doesn't even spend time with Eriol, Tomoyo and I anymore."

"Of course she wouldn't," I snap back. "She probably thinks she's too good for all of you, just because she has a 100 average in every single course she takes!"

Meiling's eyebrows rise.

"Bitter, are we?" she asks slyly before dodging out of reach as I try to shove her. Damn. She's gotten quicker.

"She's in _every single one_ of my classes," I complain. "Advanced calculus, physics _and_ history. Tell me: is it unnatural for me to wonder about what she's doing in physics, let alone _advanced calculus_?"

"Well, considering you haven't been in touch with her much..." Meiling trails off.

I give her a weird look.

"Come on," she says, leading me into the cafeteria. "We'll get lunch and then I'll introduce you to some of the guys."

Oh yeah, Meiling's still part tomboy. I'll bet she just hangs around with the guys so that she can get invitations to martial arts competitions and stuff.

Loser.

We get lunch and then sit down in a corner of the giant sprawling cafeteria. Meiling introduces me to a circle of guys. I try remember their names: Dan, Ritsuo, Ben, Isato, Yamazaki...

"Hey, I remember you!" I say, looking at Yamazaki Takashi closely. "You were in my class in the fifth grade!"

Well what do you know? A familiar face worth remembering. We're talking animatedly about old times when another guy joins us.

"Hey Tarou," Yamazaki greets him. "Met Syaoran yet?"

I don't like Tarou the moment I see him. He seems too full of himself. Wait – _Tarou_? As in, the fabled _Tarou_ who had successfully managed to ask Sakura out?

I take a good look at him. He grins at me and sits down.

"Hey, Yamazaki told us there were _developments_," the guy called Isato says with a wicked grin. "Fill us in?"

Tarou smirks a little and shakes his head.

"Oh, well -"

Meiling's looking a little bit agitated.

"Tarou..." says a female voice.

We all look up. It's Sakura. And she's looking at Tarou – _nervously_? She's playing with her fingers absentmindedly and she's biting her lip. Not unlike the way Meiling does when she's about to break bad news to someone.

Before Tarou can reply, Isato's grin widens.

"So here's the girl herself in person!" he calls out. "You probably want to talk _alone_, don't you?"

Sakura tosses him an icy glare. Secretly, I'm glad _I'm_ not on the receiving end of that glare. It's...pretty scary. And I've gotten my share of glares over the past years.

"Yes, if you don't mind," she snaps. Does her temper never improve?

Isato wiggles his eyebrows as Tarou makes a face at him.

"We'll leave you two lovebirds to...sort things out," Isato teases. Tarou takes it in stride, grinning and walking with Sakura a few steps away, where they begin to talk out of earshot.

He isn't bad, I think despite myself. But his attitude...doesn't exactly complement hers. As a matter of fact, I think they're both even in the ego department. Creepy.

To her credit, Sakura isn't all over him like typical girls with their boyfriends. There's a good arm's distance between her and Tarou, and she doesn't look much more cheerful with him than with me.

...with _me_?

_What the fuck?_

I shake my head, not for the first time today, and resume eating my lunch. I'm trying not to pay attention to the heated discussion between Sakura and Tarou but it's hard, because that's what everyone's talking about right now.

And it's fucking driving me _crazy_.

-

**Sakura's POV**

_-_

Tarou follows me until we're a good distance away from the rest of the assholes he sits with. I guess they're still jeering about us, but I really couldn't care less about what that bunch of fuckshits have to say. Or the half-assed drivel that spurts out of their mouths. Fuck them.

"So..." Tarou begins after an uncomfortable minute of silence.

I wonder how to handle this. Fuck, I've probably written hundreds of scenarios like this in my fanfiction, and every one of them seemed realistic. Now, I'm standing here in real life trying to think of a way to break it off with my so-called "boyfriend" and...I've got no clue how to do it. Not one fucking clue.

"Um..." I start. Yeah. _Um_. Real intelligent there, Sakura. Full marks in the coherence department.

"Yeah," Tarou says, with a bit of a nervous grin. He rakes his hand through his hair. Guys tend to do that when they're uncomfortable, I've seen. Tarou does it and so does Syaoran -

"I can't do this," I say, as clearly as I can without seeming overly bitchy. "It just doesn't feel right."

Tarou raises an eyebrow.

"You haven't even given me a chance yet," he says simply.

I'm more than a little taken aback. Whatever answer I was expecting, it wasn't that. He sounded almost sincere. That was the last word I'd ever use to describe Tarou Yamame.

"Look..." I force myself to carry on. I can't go out with Tarou. I don't even like him! Now how to break it to him in a less cutting way...?

"Whatever happened last night -" I abruptly change my words mid-sentence because that just sounds wrong (and to his credit, Tarou doesn't make any funny noises or facial expressions). "I mean, whatever I said last night, it was – a bit of an accident."

"An accident," Tarou repeats. Shit. He's giving me this look. Right in the eye. It's making me feel guilty. _Fuck_. Since when have I had a _conscience_? This isn't good.

"I drifted off a bit while you were talking," I confess, feeling about as guilty as I sound (double _fuck_). "I'm sorry, I had a long day and I was working on something else and not really paying attention to what you were saying -"

"Sakura," Tarou interrupts me with a bit of a laugh. "You don't have to make up lame stories. If you don't want to go out, all you have to do is say no."

"I'm not making up -" I protest, but then resign myself as Tarou gives me another Look. That asshole. Why can't he be his usual asshole-self? Why's he acting all serious and stuff? Shit, why is this getting complicated? I don't know what I want yet...but I do know that I don't want Tarou. Then why is "breaking up" with him so hard? (Let's not even mention that we weren't even together in the first place. That was just a misunderstanding on his part!)

"Fine," I say with a sigh. "I don't think this is going to work out. You don't understand, Tarou. I am neck deep in shit right now, and I need every moment I can spare. I'm never at home. I barely have time to do homework and stuff. When would we have time to go out? When would we have time to _talk?_ That wouldn't be fair to you, and I don't want to drag you into this -"

"Into what?" he asks, and _fuck_, he doesn't sound angry or resentful or bitter in the slightest. As a matter of fact, the best word to describe the tone of his voice right now is 'gentle'. _Crap_.

He's prying too deep. No one asks about how life is at home. When I say I'm in shit, no one bothers to ask about what kind of shit I mean. No one could give a damn about my family life right now. So when _Tarou Yamame_ of all people decides to pry -

I shrug.

"Just stuff," I mutter. "I don't want to say any more than that."

Tarou nods.

"I understand," he says.

If this was a fanfiction, the best word to describe Tarou right now is OOC. He is _completely_ out of character. I have no fucking idea how to deal with him. I really don't.

"You're not making this any easier," I tell him wryly. He gives me a little smile.

"Well, let's try something else then," Tarou suggests brightly. "How about you come over to my house on Saturday? You don't have to think of it as a date or anything," he adds hurriedly as I open my mouth to argue. "If it makes you feel uncomfortable or something. Uh – I just wanted to get to know you. That's all."

I stare at him, trying to figure him out. Is this just something he can use to spread more rumours about us? Or is he being genuine for once?

"Fine," I reply in a defeated voice. "Saturday, at noon?" I can hardly refuse him right now. I don't have it in me. Especially since he's not being an asshole like he usually is.

"Sure," Tarou answers with a smile. "I'll pick you up."

I nod and turn away, rubbing my temples slowly. I've got a giant migraine coming on. I'm starving, but I don't have an appetite. I'm having trouble dumping my "boyfriend" who doesn't seem to take no for an answer. He even talked me into meeting him on Saturday. And I agreed.

What the fuck happened to Tarou?

More importantly...what the fuck happened to _me_??

-

**Syaoran's POV**

-

I don't think I can stand this anymore. After a while, Sakura walked away and Tarou came back, all high-and-mighty as ever. Then everyone started pressing him for details, which he didn't disclose, thank Kami-sama. I don't think I would have been able to stop myself from killing him.

Whoa, strong feelings. I don't even know why. I hate him because he's got Sakura. I hate him because she chose him over -

I stand up abruptly. Meiling stares at me.

"I have to check something in the library," I whisper in her ear, slinging my back over my shoulder. "I'll head straight to biology after."

Meiling nods, and I head out of the cafeteria as fast as I can without appearing awkward. People are giving me looks. Trying to talk to me. But I glare at them and they all go away. I don't want to talk to anyone right now. I have to think.

I check my schedule. Biology's on the third floor. Maybe I'll go wait outside the classroom. It'll probably be deserted and quiet. Perfect thinking time. I head off to the third floor. I'm looking for my biology classroom.

I find it.

And – wouldn't you have guessed it? - Sakura's right there. Leaning against the wall, her bag on the floor next to her crossed legs. Her arms crossed over her chest protectively, her head lowered because she's staring at the ground blankly.

Part of me wonders what she's doing here all alone, with that glazed, disconnected look on her face. She doesn't look as put off as she usually does. If anything, she looks...well...almost _sad_.

What would Sakura have to feel sad about?

-

**Sakura's POV**

-

I'm waiting in front of the biology room. It's about halfway through lunch. I haven't eaten anything. I don't feel like eating anything. I just need time to _think_...

My marks are doing great. Everything else – not so much. Fuck, everything's been going haywire since last summer. Ever since Dad got diagnosed with leukemia.

I thought I'd die that day. Touya took the blow stoically. Dad needed to be here, in Tomoeda for his treatment. Which wasn't cheap. But he couldn't go on digs anymore. And he's an archaeologist. So his earnings went down. Not enough to cover the rising costs of his treatment, because he's not getting better. Every week, he needs new medication, sees new doctors, gets new tests done... and the medicine bills just keep piling and piling in our mailbox. Touya got a job, but there's only so much he can do over his school year. He lives in residence, and he's got to pay for that too, and he only earns so much. Which is why I took up my job at the clinic. Sure, I get home past dark every single day, but it's the highest paying job a girl my age can get, and those bills need paying. So now I'm stuck living half a life. Studying and working every moment of my life, just so that our bills get paid and Dad can stay alive.

Dad...

My eyes are feeling a bit watery, so I close them tightly and breathe deeply, trying to calm myself. I need to breathe. I barely have time to do that even. I need to breathe. I need to smile. I need to write. I have to write something. Everything's crashing down on my head, overwhelming me, suffocating me... I need escape from it all. Escape from the dreary exhaustion that is my everyday life, into worlds of poignant words and charismatic characters. Worlds that I can create and manipulate. Worlds in which _I_ pull the strings.

My thoughts turn back to the oneshot I wrote yesterday. I need to finish it. Needless to say, after Tarou's phone call, I couldn't fucking concentrate. So I saved that and started on my homework instead. But that oneshot...I'm going to work on it when I get home tonight. My plot's going to change, my characters will go OOC. But I don't care. I need out. And now, fanfiction's the only way I can let myself go. The only goddamned way.

I want to talk to Lang. He's guaranteed to make me feel better. Maybe I'll muster the guts to look over one of the oneshots he betaed for me. Yeah...that should take my mind off things.

Words are forming in my mind. Random, disconnected words that make sense for a fragment of time and then disappear into vapourous nothings swirling within my racing mind. All I can think of, all I can see are short, caucophonic adjectives. _Lost, hurt, fallen, cold, dark..._

I can feel a new plot tingling away somewhere in my overactive imagination. Fuck. I need to go home and get this all down before I lose it. But I can't. I have to wait patiently until goddamned nine o'clock in the evening before I can even get access to my fucking computer.

I'm not going to be able to concentrate all day today. Not when my mind is subconsciously working on another big fanfic. I haven't written a multi-chaptered story since I completed _Dreaming of You_, almost two months ago. It's been a long series of oneshots for me. I just don't have the time or energy to devote to long, complicated plots and intricate character development. It takes a lot out of you. I'm not kidding. While writing my last story, I'd usually end up going to bed in tears. I've cried myself to sleep several times over. Writing is a really involving pastime.

I shiver.

There's someone in the hallway. Someone waiting by the biology room, standing on the other side of the hall. Whoever it is, they're silent. And they're not trying to talk to me. So I ignore them, and just lose myself in my thoughts.

Until the bell goes.

-

* * *

****

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the anime, as you all know...

**a/n:** Bit of an abrupt ending, but if I dragged it on, it would've gotten a bit too long...

Just to clarify (in case it was unclear): last chapter, Syaoran couldn't recognize Sakura. Remember, it was nighttime and really dark. Syaoran couldn't see her really well. All he could see was a random girl calling out to him. And also, since Sakura didn't exactly help him (she wasn't all "Syaoran, it's me, Sakura!"), he just assumed she was some girl out for charity or something along those lines.

So now the story stands at this: Syaoran's mad at Sakura for going out with Tarou, and Sakura's mad at Syaoran's holier-than-thou attitude. Also, I've revealed why Sakura's more stressed than the average teenager: basically, she's very very scared for her dad's health, which makes her take a lot out on herself (does that make sense?). It also would account for her change in character: naturally, she would be more serious about everything she does.

A lot of people commented on Sakura's newly acquired math skills. (Heck, even Syaoran was confused!) To that, all I can answer with is...people change. A lot has happened to Sakura in seven years, and it does happen in real life. Certain subjects you hated in elementary school could end up to be your favourite in high school. (I draw parallels to myself in this: I hated elementary school math and I was hopeless in trig, yet I loved grade 12 calculus and ended up with an insanely high mark because of it.) So...I guess I've emphasized the change in Sakura's mindset, as well as Syaoran's (rather ridiculous) expectations of her to remain exactly the way her remembered her.

So...needless to say, SxS don't have very bright feelings for each other at the moment, and things will probably stay like that for a while. Meanwhile, next chapter, I'll focus more on the relationship between "Sayuri" and "Lang". I'll even include excerpts of what Sakura writes! (it's going to be complicated, writing about a writer's writing...)

Reviews, ideas, suggestions, scene requests, feedback, etc. are all **heartily welcomed**!

**Next Chapter:** A bit of an accident leaves Sakura more irate than ever. Not good when Syaoran decides to confront her...and ends up seeing a bit more than he bargained for! Meanwhile, Sakura finds herself unexpectedly with a lot of free time. Who does she decide to spend it with? Find out next chapter, in _Twister._

**Please do review! I'm trying to maintain 30 reviews a chapter. Think you love me enough to do it for me?**

**:D**

**_-Celestiana_**


	4. Twister

_**Literary..**_

_**-**_

**Summary: **Sakura is a famous fanfiction author. Syaoran is the best beta she's ever had. They share a world made of the words and tales they weave and write. But they don't know that they know each other...in real life.

_**-**_

**Full Summary: **He promised he'd come back for her. She promised to wait for him. But a misunderstanding creates a giant rift between Sakura and Syaoran, enough to break the powerful friendship they once shared. To escape fate's blows, Sakura seeks solace in fanfiction and soon becomes a famous author on the busy _Fanfiction Corner, _under the alias Sayuri. She's lucky enough to meet Lang, and he becomes her greatest fan, faithful beta, and online buddy/soulmate. Wait until she finds out that "Lang" is really Syaoran, the cause of all her troubles...

**-**

**a/n:** 98! **-jumps up and down madly-** Wow! I love you all, I can't say it enough. It's almost one in the morning and yet I'm still wide awake with cheerfulness (okay that's not even a word, but you get my point!)...

Okay, just a few notes to be said, so bear with me...

In this chapter, there's a bit more focus on SxS's fanfiction relationship. I've included excerpts of a piece that Sakura writes, owing to popular request. As I'm not sure what kind of stuff the whole CCS crew would be into, I just made up a fictional anime for them to dabble in. Bear with the plot holes present - all I needed were characters. You'll see what I mean soon...

Also, I've gotten a complaint about the repeated use of the word '_fuck_'. I've tried incorporating a scene which corrects this problem. Bear with me until that point, however...

Can't remember what else I had to say, so I'll just shut up and let you all read now...

* * *

Chapter Three. Twister

-

**Sakura's POV**

**-**

My mind's overbusy. I can't concentrate on anything. From biology to English to goddamned PE, I can't fucking concentrate. Sometimes I enjoy being lost in my muses, but today I sure as hell did not appreciate it.

Why?

Oh, simple.

I have a race coming up in a month, so in class I was running my laps. With the damned hurdles up. _Outside_. In the fucking rain!

So there I was, sprinting on the track in my _shorts_ (it's goddamned NOVEMBER!). Meiling and I were far ahead of the rest. We were neck-to-neck and I was gaining speed as I prepared to jump the next hurdle. All of a sudden, quick as you please, my mind started to wander. I saw the words of a teaser hover in front of my eyes as I leapt off of the ground. At that moment, I knew I had the summary of my new story...

The _next_ moment, all I knew was dull, throbbing pain. I hadn't jumped high enough. I let out a small yelp as my back knee collided loudly against the goddamned motherfucking WOODEN hurdle. I lost my footing as I landed, falling heavily and fucking _painfully_ on my ankle. I lay there and really couldn't get up. My knee hurt like a bitch, there were bruises forming all over my arms and legs from where I tried to break my fall, and my ankle felt like it was fucking _on fire_. I couldn't move at all until Meiling came by and helped me up. (oh, but only _after_ she crossed the finish line and beat me in the race. That fucking bitch!)

I staggered to my feet, trying to walk on my own but I hadn't gone two steps before my ankle gave way and I collapsed on the ground again. There was a bit of a commotion when Amaya-sensei got to me. After poking around at my ankle (which didn't fucking help, considering it was already BROKEN in the first place!), yelling at me like a bitch on crack for being so irresponsible (gee, thanks for letting me know that you care), and giving me a _long_ lecture about what she'd like to do with unreliable athletes (yeah yeah, like we all want to go break our ankles just for the hell of it...), she sent me out of PE to the hospital wing, hobbling against Meiling's shoulder.

How dignified.

Not.

Oh, and let's not forget that on the way off the field, I bumped into The Bastard. Well, not _literally_ "Bumped Into", but you get what I mean. And the look on Syaoran's face was...almost condescending. Like when we first met...

Well, fuck you, Mr. High-and-Mighty. Let's see how gracefully _you_ can walk after crashing into a fucking hurdle and fucking breaking your ankle. Stupid wanker.

So now I'm sitting in the hospital wing, getting my ankle poked and prodded by the nurse. Shit, that _hurts_! On top of the extra knee I'm growing, bleeding swollen scrapes on my elbows and knees (apparently I dragged on the ground when I landed) and lightheadedness from not eating lunch... I'm also shivering because my clothes are _drenched_ from the rain outside.

Fuck, this is uncomfortable.

"It could be broken," Shizoku-san, the nurse, says grimly. "You should get that checked by a doctor."

Well, what am I paying HER for then?! I can't afford a doctor right now! Dad's going to Tokyo in March for treatment, and I need to save every penny I can!

"How do you get home?" Shizoku-san asks me, strapping my ankle so that it feels a bit better (but _still_ hurts like a bitch! _Ahhh_...).

"Bus," I answer, wincing as she ties the binding down extra tight. (_Fuuucckkk..._)

"Bus?!" she exclaims, staring at me. "You're not taking the bus in this condition! Can't anyone give you a ride?"

"Um..." I mutter, feeling my face turn red. "I think my brother's picking me up..."

"Well, give him a call and make sure he gets here!" Shizoku-san orders. She hands me a phone.

What choice do I have? At least Touya was going to come here anyway...

I just don't want to tell him that I'm hurt.

But Touya (Kami-sama bless him this once) takes it well when I tell him.

"I'll meet you inside the school," he tells me over the phone. "You'll be in the hospital wing?"

"No, by my locker," I say. "I have to get my stuff..."

"Got you," Touya affirms. "I'm leaving right now. Don't do anything stupid until I get there."

And then he hangs up. Just like that.

I sit there, numbly handing the phone to Shizoku-san, my big brother's words echoing in my head.

_Don't do anything stupid_...

Kami-sama, I've been doing stupid things all day. Now look where it's gotten me. In the hospital wing with a possibly-broken ankle and a fucking DATE with Tarou -

Tarou!

He can't possibly expect me to go out with him in this condition, can he? I can barely walk!

_Screw him_, I think to myself savagely. _If I feel guilty every time I do something stupid, I'll explode_.

"Where are you going?" Shizoku-san asks sharply as I struggle to my feet and sway precariously. I manage to catch my balance in time, leaning on the chair in front of me, biting my lip to stop myself from gasping out loud at the pain in my ankle. _Fuck_, it hurts so much! But not as much as before, which is good because as I remove my hands from the chair, I find that I can still stand without tottering like a one-legged chair.

"Locker," I reply shortly, testing my foot gingerly to see if it supports my weight.

Shizoku-san nearly loses it.

"Are you mad?" she screeches and I very nearly lose my balance again. "The last bell's going to ring in ten minutes and if you're not there by then, you're going to get run over or worse!"

She continues in this vein for about twelve thousand years. I wish she'd shut her trap. I didn't get injured on purpose and I hate feeling dependent on others. I've got a house to run, bills to pay...I have to look after Dad until he goes for his treatment. Until then, I have to put up with everything. I have to survive, somehow...

"Shizoku-san," I say, as calmly as I can. "I'll be fine. Honest. I can actually walk pretty quickly since you tied my ankle."

To emphasize my point, I take a few quick steps across the room, thanking Kami-sama that I didn't stumble and end up breaking my other ankle while I was at it.

She sniffs but agrees to let me out. I hobble out of the hospital wing and down the hall as fast as I can, only to swing to a complete stop just around the corner. My ankle's screaming at me. Shit, the pain, the pain...

There's no way I can work at the clinic today.

_Fuck!_

I continue walking in the empty hallways, ignoring the waves of pain lancing through my foot every time I take a step. It's what I get for being stupid, anyway. Now because of me, I can't work at the clinic for at least this weekend, and Touya now has to take me to the doctor or something.

I really, _really_ hate my life...

Reached my stupid locker two seconds before the bell. Ha. Take that, Shizoku-san. And no, I didn't get trampled or worse. It'll take more than that to take down this bitch.

My ankle throbs in response. A small hiss of pain escapes through my teeth before I lean against my locker, trying to take as much of my weight off of my stupid ankle as possible.

I close my eyes for a little bit, breathing lightly. My peaceful repose is rudely interrupted, however, when someone clears their throat impatiently.

My eyes snap wide open. I see Syaoran standing barely two inches away from me. His amber eyes look cross and impatient (duh) and _oh_ so mesmerizing and deep and -

"You're in my way," he says bluntly. I gape at him, wondering what he means. We're in a _hallway_. I'm leaning against my _locker_. He can't walk through my locker...

Then my eyes travel from him to the locker beside me. The one that used to be locked until this morning -

Oh fuck. He's got the locker right next to mine. _Shit_. Not only is he in every one of my classes, he _also_ has the fucking locker right next to mine. Kami-sama, why do you do this to me?!?

I mumble something as I move to let him open his locker. He just rolls his eyes and opens the door. It forms a sort of wall between us, separating him from me. I close my eyes again. That's good. I don't have to see him. Then, I don't have to think about him.

...I don't think this logic works very well. Because I can't see him and I'm still goddamned thinking about him – SHUT UP BRAIN!!

Maybe I should do something to distract myself. I know. I'll just turn around and pack my bag. Yeah. That works.

Not. I forget temporarily that my ankle hurts like a bitch. No worries though. I remember this all too clearly once I try standing without the support of my locker.

_Aaannd_ I stumble. Not onto Syaoran's locker door, thankfully. But I do end up falling (rather loudly) against my own locker door.

My dignity has hit rock bottom.

I feel the back of my neck turn _red_ as Syaoran lets out a small 'tuh'. But he continues doing whatever he's doing and I, after twisting and turning the dial on my lock, manage to open my locker.

I drop to my knees. The abrupt change of position aggravates my ankle. A blinding flash of pain streaks up my leg. I can't help it. I gasp.

_Fuck_.

Angry with myself for being weak, I unzip my back vehemently, begin grabbing random textbooks and stuffing them into my bag. By the time I'm finished, I think my bag looks like it's ready to explode. I have to use all of my body weight to hold the bag closed while I try zip it shut...

_Fucking zip up already, won't you?_

"You know, you really don't need to take those three chemistry textbooks home, seeing as you don't have any homework..."

I freeze before my head snaps up. Syaoran slams his locker door shut and leans against it, looking down at me. There's a little smirk on his face. I resist the urge to smack it off of him. But my face turns red (to my horror).

My anger seems to know no bounds. The moment I think I can explode with anger, something comes along to make me even angrier, testing the limits of just how angry I can get. Now seems to be one of those moments. Just who the fuck does Syaoran think he is? What's he trying to do? Give me _advice_? Like I need it! I'd rather give him a good walloping over the top of the head _with_ my three chemistry textbooks!

"You know, I missed the part where that was any of your concern," I reply coolly, giving him a cold little smile. It would have been a lot more effective if I wasn't kneeling on the ground with my eyes watering in pain thanks to the throbbing of my ankle, but I'm not about to take his slighty little remarks lying down.

"I'm not concerned," Syaoran replies, shrugging a little. "I'm just curious as to why someone with a broken ankle would _want_ to carry a bag with ten textbooks in it."

I roll my eyes, gingerly getting to my feet and closing my locker. I take the opportunity to casually lean against the door, inwardly jumping from the sensation of relieving my ankle from my body weight.

"Broken?" I scoff. "You wish."

He raises his eyebrows and lifts his bag over a shoulder effortlessly.

"Glad to see you haven't changed," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I stare at him incredulously. What the f – _what_ did he just say?!

"What was that supposed to mean?" I demand in a low voice. I know my eyes are flashing freakily, because his eyes gleam with something close to annoyance.

"Stop playing dumb, Sakura," he says to me. "It's doesn't _suit_ you."

Okay, what in the name of Kami-sama is this wanker trying to imply? Playing dumb doesn't suit me? _I've_ changed?!

"Well at least that makes one of us," I retort heatedly, shifting my weight so I can get a better look at the scowl on his face. "_I've_ changed, have I?"

"Haven't you?" Syaoran repeats, his face flushing dark red. His mouth tightens into a thin line. Oh shit, I know that look. That's the look he used to reserve especially for me, back when we were rivals for capturing Cards. It's the _I-hate-you-so-much_ look. The death glare. Whatever you want to call it, it's on his face right now.

"If I have, I'm not the only one," I snap, feeling my face take on a similar expression. He looks taken aback for a moment, before he rearranges his face into a more frigid expression.

"You don't see _me_ whoring around with -" he mutters and his face reddens a bit more.

Nowhere near as close to the red that I'm seeing, though.

"_Excuse me_?" I seethe, feeling my entire being crackle with jolts of fury. "_Whoring_ around? What the _fuck_ have you been listening to?!"

He's _very_ startled with the language I just used, and I wince a little. I didn't mean to say that out loud; it just happened. Anyway, I don't regret it. Syaoran deserves every inch of it. He promises me he'll come back, but when he does, he acts all cold and _fucking slams his door in my face_. Now, he's acting all high and mighty, and he even had the gall to call me a whore! For what reason?

"Don't use that word," he says - no - _orders_.

"Which one?" I shoot back rebelliously. How _dare_ he give me orders like that!

"You know which one I mean," he snaps at me. "What are you - American or something?"

Excuse me?! Who the f - I mean - _who is he_ to make comments on my vocabulary?! I'll swear as much as I want - now _why am I listening to him?!_

Before I can throw a heated retort back in his face, I hear a pronounced "_Ahem_". I turn around to see Touya standing not six inches away from me.

"Sorry if I'm disturbing anything here," he says, tossing a big scowl at Syaoran (oh shit, how much did he hear? Touya never liked Syaoran much – does he recognize him?! Wait wait...why do I care?). He faces me. "Let's go, you've got an appointment with the doctor in half an hour."

_What?_

"Touya..." I mutter under my voice so that Syaoran can't hear me (he's still lingering around, that little b-), "I'm fine, I don't _need _to see a doctor about it..."

Touya doesn't even give me a look.

"Nice try," he says, turning around. "But somehow, I don't think I believe you."

"I'm _fine_!" I burst out, threateningly close to tears (shit, shit, _shit_, can't cry, have to stay strong...). "You don't have to waste your time with this -"

Touya snaps around and the look in his eyes makes me quail inwardly with fright.

"I'll be the decider of that," he says softly. "Stop being stupid. I'll get your bag. You get to the car."

"I can carry -" I start, closing my hands around the strap of my bag, but Touya grabs it quickly and snatches it out of my hands. Ouch.

I bite my lip, feeling a lump form dangerously in my throat. Not daring to look at the tall boy still standing at the locker next to mine, I limp after my big brother as fast as I can.

So much for retaining my dignity.

"Are you mad at me?" I ask when we get to the car.

Touya gives me a funny look as he throws my bag into the back seat.

"Why would I be mad?" he asks, shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat. I climb in beside him and close the door. "It's not like you broke your ankle on purpose or something..."

"But you have to take me to the doctor!" I blurted out, my guilt releasing itself before I could rein it in. "You could have been doing something more useful right now..."

"More useful than getting you to the doctor's when you're injured?" Touya repeats incredulously, reversing out of the parking lot. "I don't think so."

"But we can barely afford it!" I exclaim before I can stop myself. "And now I can't even work at the clinic because I can barely walk!"

Touya sighs as he slows to a stop at a red light.

"Kaijuu..." he begins, and I'm too depressed to even yell at him. "Haven't you ever heard of insurance?"

I cross my hands over my chest, my face like thunder. Of _course_ I've heard of insurance. What does he think I am?

It takes me a full ten seconds to realize that he _knows_ I know about insurance.

Wow. I take everything so seriously these days. It's quite scary.

"I'm sorry," I mumble. "For being so difficult and pigheaded."

Touya shrugs.

"So, how'd you _get_ injured in the first place?" he asks conversationally.

"Crashed into a hurdle," I answer noncommitally. "Fell four feet and broke the fall on my ankle."

Touya winces.

"Ouch."

I glance out the window. It's still raining. Unusually heavily. It reminds me of the time the Rain Card was loose and terrorizing the town. But that was years ago, and Rain is now at home, safe in Kero's protection. Along with the rest of the Sakura cards...

Not much else happens as we go to the doctor's. It takes forever for my appointment to come. When it does, the doctor doesn't have great news for me.

"It's broken," he says wryly, examining some X-rays he had taken half an hour earlier. "You're not doing much running for the next couple months, Kinomoto-san."

Thank you Kami-sama for this exhilirating close to an otherwise _splendid_ day. Note the heavy dose of sarcasm, by the way.

I sigh as we get back into the car, my foot encased in plaster and crutches in my arms. This is _so_ embarrassing...

"Cheer up," Touya says to me when we're almost home. "You go to your room and relax a little bit. I'll make dinner."

He tilts his head toward me.

"Beating yourself up isn't going to solve any of your problems," he tells me, quite wisely. How he could have known that was what I planned to do to myself, I have no idea. He can read me like an open book. But I guess that's because he's my big brother. He's practically my dad.

Touya pulls into our driveway. It's just after six. There's still a hint of light in the sky. Wow. I've never been home before dark. Well...not in a long while, anyway.

I hobble into the house and make my way up the stairs with excruciating slowness. There's a moment when I nearly fall over, but I manage to totter into my bedroom and sink onto the bed with a groan.

Kero's by my side in an instant.

"What happened?" he asks urgently.

"Ugh..." I undo my tie and twist it around my fingers. "I crashed into a hurdle in PE. Fell four feet and broke my ankle."

Kero's eyes pop open _wide_.

"What?" he cries. "You _broke your ankle_?"

I nod, grimacing at his screeches.

Kero falls silent, evidently lost in thought.

"So maybe that's it..." he mutters.

"What's it?" I ask, confused. "Kero, what's wrong?"

But he shakes his head and dismissively waves his paw.

"It's nothing," he says. "Just...the Cards are getting a bit restless, that's all."

"Restless?" I frown. "Why would they be getting restless?"

Kero shrugs.

"I don't know. Maybe it's because you got hurt?" He examines the sceptical look on my face and sighs. "It's not like they're loose or anything. I can still control them. After all, I _am_ the guardian of the Clow book."

He draws himself up to his full twelve inches proudly. The sight makes my face break into a small smile as I gaze at him thoughtfully.

"Don't worry about it, Sakura-chan," he assures me. "I have it all under control. _Your_ job is to get better as soon as you can."

I nod.

Suddenly the door opens. My eyes rest upon Touya, standing in the doorway with my bag.

"Oh, thank you -" I get up eagerly, trying to take the bag from him, but he just drops it in the corner of my room.

"What do you have in there? Bricks?" he demands with a scowl.

"Worse," I reply. "Textbooks."

He shudders before glancing at me, seated on my bed rather uncomfortably.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" he asks carefully, and I nod. I'm far from okay, but Touya's had enough trouble on my account.

"What's that?" Touya asks, squinting beside me. I follow his gaze, where Kero's sitting, still as a stuffed animal.

I blink.

"Oh...it's just Kero-chan," I say with a slight laugh.

Touya's eyes narrow.

"I see..." he mutters before walking away. I can hear him talking under his breath. "I always had a funny feeling about that stuffed animal. Isn't she too old to be playing with those...?"

Kero exhales loudly.

"That was close," he remarks. "Your onii-chan still never fails to catch me off guard."

"At least you didn't get caught," I answer, before getting to my feet shakily. "Kero, I'm changing."

He politely covers his eyes while I struggle out of my uniform and into my pajamas. It's far from bedtime but I don't want to have to take the trouble of changing unless I absolutely need to. Besides, my pajamas are comfy.

"You can look now," I call to Kero as my fingers do the last button on my pajama top.

Kero obliges by hovering over my shoulder.

"So what happened?" he asks me, his voice deceptively light.

I shrug as I limp over to the chair in front of my desk and sink into it.

"Syaoran came back to school today," I say, trying to keep my voice even. Unfortunately, Kero reads me almost as well as Touya does and he perks up instantly upon detecting the slight wobble in my voice.

"Does that have _anything_ to do with why your ankle's broken?" Kero growls, rather menacingly for a little stuffed animal barely twelve inches tall.

"No! I mean, no..." I shake my head quickly. "I honestly did trip over a hurdle, Kero-chan."

"Then what did the kid do to you?" Kero presses. I suppress a laugh, trying to imagine Kero calling Syaoran a "kid" to his face now. He's grown so tall...

"Nothing," I answer darkly. "He just changed and became an asshole, that's what!"

Kero winces and I feel my flash fury ebb a little bit.

"Sorry," I add quickly. Kero brushes it off.

"No...you're upset, Sakura-chan," Kero says simply. "It shows in your eyes. He did something to you. What happened?"

I sigh, leaning back on my chair.

"I...don't know," I muse. "Okay, yesterday while coming home, I saw him at the door. I went to say hi to him and he slammed the door in my face!"

"_What_?!" Kero's looking even more outraged than how I felt at the time.

"Yeah..." I nod, scrubbing at my eyes even though they're dry. "Anyway, he's become so cold and unfeeling now. I can't believe he used to be the Syaoran I – knew. Then, at the end of the day, he confronted me and he told me that I've changed and – and he said that I was whoring around with Tarou -"

"_You were WHAT?! With WHO?!_" Kero yells, zooming into the air so that he's nose-to-nose with me.

Oh shit. I still haven't told Kero about Tarou. How to explain, how to explain...?

"Tarou," I say quickly. "He's another problem I've got."

Kero nods slowly, but he's still aggressively got his forehead jammed against the bridge of my nose. It'd be cute if the look on his face wasn't quite so scary.

"Um – well, he's this guy at school who always tries to ask me out," I explain as fast as I can, trying to get this over with. "And you know, I think he's a loser so I always turn him down. But uh – yesterday, he caught me off guard -"

"How?" Kero asks shortly, his eyes narrowed.

"He called me up at ten last night," I offer hastily. "And at first he wanted help with the English assignment we got yesterday, so I helped him with that. Then he just started blathering on and on, and I got bored. So I kept working on the oneshot I was writing and wasn't paying attention to what he was saying. Then I realized he'd asked me something because it went quiet, so I said 'yes' to whatever he was saying and it turned out -"

"He asked you to go out with him," Kero finished slowly, drawing away from me.

"Exactly," I say, nodding mournfully. "And I tried breaking it off with him at lunch, but then he started going all weird and sensitive and then I felt bad. So -"

"You're going out with him?" Kero asks incredulously.

"Ye – no!" I defend myself, red-faced. "He invited me to his house tomorrow, just as _friends_ because I told him I felt awkward with the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing. But I can't possibly go now, because my ankle's broken. And either way, I was going to tell him tomorrow that I can't go on doing this, because it makes me feel weird and I can't, and I don't want to go out with him because it just complicates everything -"

"And it makes the kid jealous as hell," Kero finishes thoughtfully.

I stare at him.

"Pardon the language," he excuses himself, but I'm not even paying attention to the fact that Kero used a swear.

"Syaoran? _Jealous_?" I repeat disbelievingly.

Kero gazes at me flatly.

"Well, why else would he be so mad at you?" he counters. "My guess is that he came back and when the first thing he saw was you and that other guy cuddled up somewhere -"

"_Kero-chan_!" I'm appalled by the thought of it. "I don't _cuddle_ with anyone!"

"Point taken," Kero nods and then continues. "Thing is, I'll bet that when he found out that you had a boyfriend, whether you wanted one or not, he must have gotten pretty angry. He thought you were going to wait for him."

"I _did_," I argue, feeling confusion wash over me. "I _did_ wait for him -"

"But he doesn't know that," Kero says wisely. "Knowing him, he's probably jealous of the guy and angry at you for going out with him."

"But why?" I ask loudly, trying to drown out Kero's insane theories. "Why would it matter to Syaoran if I waited or not? Why would he _care_ if I was – what was it he said again? - oh yeah, _whoring_ around with some other guy?"

Kero sighs and shakes his head mournfully.

"Well, didn't he like you?" he asks me pointedly.

I stare at him stupidly.

"Well – yeah," I answer despite myself. "We were friends, weren't we? Best friends..."

Kero proceeds to fly over to my desk, stand in front of the wall and then all of a sudden, he beats his head repeatedly against it.

"_Kero-chan!_" I hiss, feeling _very_ confused.

He glances at me with a small smile.

"You're so old now..." he says to me knowingly. "But you still know absolutely _nothing_."

I grit my teeth. What's Kero implying here? And why won't he come clean and say what he has to say _out loud_?

"Maybe I don't," I shoot back, struggling to quell my rising stream of angst. "But I _do_ know one thing. Yesterday, when I went to visit him, he told me that there was nothing for me there. And then he slammed the door in my face. I don't know what message that's sending you, but to me, it seems pretty obvious that he doesn't give a shit about me! So if he's jealous or whatever now...I think he goddamned deserves it!"

I swivel around in my chair, start my computer and stare at the screen vindictively.

Kero sighs again as he goes back onto the bedside table and resumes his peaceful sleep.

Breathing heavily, I open the oneshot I'd started working on last night. Maybe I can send it to Lang when it's done.

My fingers meet the keyboard.

Time to start writing.

-

**Syaoran's POV**

-

It's been a long, _long_ day. Never mind that classes seem really easy and there doesn't seem to be a shortage of people willing to talk to me and be friendly and stuff. I shouldn't have much to complain about. My teachers are great. I'm already captain of the soccer team. I'm not in Hong Kong and I don't have to worry about the Elders watching my every move and scrutinizing every breath that I take. Here...I'm free. I don't have to worry about being the heir to the Li clan, or about what the rest of China will say if I set a toe out of line. There are no rules here. No restrictions. No getting up at four in the morning to practice my magic or martial arts...

But somehow, the day's managed to be really depressing.

No wild guesses as to why.

I just feel cheated.

The feeling grows as I enter my bedroom at eight in the evening, after I've showered and eaten. My eyes fall upon the picture I hung there, complete with the fabric cherry blossom attached to the frame.

_What a waste of space_, I force myself to think, feeling my insides burning as I stare at us. Sakura and I. We looked so happy there. I gaze at the giant smile spread across my ten-year-old self's face. Is it possible for me to smile so much, I wonder? I don't smile much anymore. I feel like I did before I came to Tomoeda for the first time. Before Sakura had worked her magic on me. Whatever she did to me, it had made me happy. I'd always felt happy around her. I felt completed.

...because we were friends.

But she's changed now. That much was painfully obvious in school today. She's no longer the genki kid who used to trip over her own feet down the stairs and come wailing to me about her sorrows and problems. The Sakura I knew is gone. And the one in her place – she's a stranger. I don't know her anymore.

She's everything the old Sakura wasn't. She's cold and hostile. She's withdrawn and quiet. She's always bad-tempered and never smiles. She's amazing at math.

And, unable to help myself, I wonder what happened. What would force the laughing, carefree kid in the picture in front of me to grow into such a serious, unfeeling _bitch_? She _knows_ that she promised to wait for me. She knows I came back for her. Then why would she go out with Tarou? What does she see in him that she doesn't see in me?

This thought echoes around in my head for a good minute before I realize what I've just said. Was I..._comparing_ myself to someone like Tarou? As though I _cared_ what Sakura did with him? Hell, the more I stay here, the more I realize the Elders were right! There _is_ no need to mix with those outside the family circle. You just get caught up with their cheap ways and thinking, and in the end, you lose your own mind. End result? _You_ suffer.

I glare at the picture of the two of us, alone in the frame and laughing as though the world was ours and we had just conquered it. But somehow...I can't bring myself to take the picture down. I just can't. It just looks so right, hanging there with the faded amber comb still affixed to it...

I tear my gaze away from the framed photograph and seat myself at the computer. I need to distract myself before I go crazy. Let me check my email, see if Mother's sent me anything.

I scan the numerous new messages sitting in my inbox. None from Mother. Plenty from the Elders though. I roll my eyes and sign out. I'll read those when I'm feeling more suicidal.

Signing into my secondary email account, I'm surprised when I see a new message from Sayuri. I check the date. She sent it today, not an hour ago.

The subject reads, _Another oneshot_.

I raise my eyebrows as I open her message and start reading it.

_Lang,_

_Sorry to bug you with more work, but I finished the oneshot I started yesterday. If you could beta that for me, I'd be greatly obliged._

_Also, I had a brainwave for a new story. Will you be on later this evening so that I can talk to you?_

_Thanks._

_-Sayuri_

I open the document attached to her message, and within moments it's loaded onto my screen. My eyes flit across the title.

_C Minor_.

A small smile appears on my face. One thing about Sayuri's oneshots is that they're extremely well-thought out. Her titles are enigmatic, her teaser summaries are attention-grabbing and her writing itself is just...wow.

I check the fandom she's writing this in.

_Cerberus_.

Well, no surprises there. Sayuri used to write in loads of different fandoms before this new anime came out a few years ago. It's got one of the most sophisticated plotlines I've ever seen in a TV show, let alone an anime. The characters are all awesome. None of them is perfect, and the chemistry between them is amazing as is. It's a show about corporate fraud, underworld conspiracies and the reawakening of mythical powers. Sounds kind of lame when I say it like that, but the show itself is so entertaining. It's still running, but I don't get much time to watch it...

Getting back on track now. What pairing is it? I glance at the next line.

_AxK_.

Ah. Aisha and Kaito. It's Sayuri's favourite pairing, and mine too. In the actual anime, Murakami Kaito's one of the main characters. He and his associate, Oonishi Kohana, are forced to go on the run and end up discovering these ancient ruins which form the gateway to a magical force field. After exposure to this, both Kaito and Kohana develop heightened powers, which throws the balance of the world out of whack because the force field generates an army of evil superbeings bent on destroying the planet. The only way Kaito and Kohana could stop this from happening would be to find the Cerberus, the most powerful spirit released by the force field, and harness its powers to enlarge the force field and get rid of all the daemons (the evil superbeings).

Where does Aisha fit into this? Oh, simple. Aisha's a daemon released by the force field. She's one of the most powerful daemons and is defeated by Kaito midway through the show. Then, Kaito binds her to him so that she can help him find Cerberus. So basically, throughout the entire show, Aisha is bound to Kaito. I find it depressing how at the end of the first season, Kaito got together with Kohana while Aisha was thrown back into the magical force field with the aid of Cerberus. Especially since the chemistry between Kaito and Aisha was so absorbing. It must have been the stupidest decision the storywriters ever made, deciding to do away with Aisha. On _Fanfiction Corner_, the most popular ship is Aisha and Kaito. It's one of the rare occasions where the most beloved ship is different from the canon shipping. But hey, Aisha was way cooler than Kohana.

...I'm getting obsessive again, aren't I? Curse Sheifa for getting me into fanfiction in the first place. But if she hadn't, I'd never have met Sayuri, which kind of makes it all worth it.

Anyway, past the title, fandom and shipping. Next, the most important part. The summary.

I read it carefully, absorbing the words Sayuri had written.

_Fame was hers, but he belonged to someone else. All she had of him was the empty seat in the VIP section._

Okay. So it's AU. As usual.

I wince while rereading the summary. Okay, Sayuri's a great writer and all, but I wish her stories weren't always so _depressing_. I'd gotten enthusiastic when she sent me a chapter of a new romance/humour fic that she was starting. But seems to me, she's already shelved that.

I begin to read, and as she'd promised, Sayuri's writing is even more dark and depressing than usual.

_...her fingers, slim and white, were serene even as they lightly skimmed the keys of the grand piano situated before her. They belied the single tear coursing down her cheek, out of sight of the audience and hidden by her fall of ebony black hair..._

So in here, Aisha (I presume that's Aisha because she's got black hair) is a famous pianist, performing onstage with the wounds of unrequited love still fresh. Charming.

_...the music shimmered and echoed throughout the giant hall, capturing everyone in her spell. This was why they loved her. Because she had magic in her fingers. A sweet symphonic magic that attracted everyone within earshot toward her, save one._

_And wasn't it more than her fate warranted, that the one who mattered most to her was the one best at resisting the allure of her music?_

_She closed her eyes, already able to seat it in heart-wrenching clarity. The front row, reserved for VIPs. At every concert she held, she always had a seat ready for him. The seat at the very centre of the front row: the best seat in the house. His name was etched into the burnished gold nameplate hanging on the back of the seat._..

I pause, adding a few comments in red text. Sometimes, she uses too many fragments. It drives me crazy.

I scan a few more lines. There doesn't seem to be a problem until I reach the ending.

_...she couldn't cast her spell on him, because he had already cast his on her. And she was entangling herself into this spell more and more as each day passed. It ate away at her sanity and burned searing holes into her mind, until she could think of no one else but him._

_Until she could want nothing else but him..._

It's almost perfect. Almost.

I look at one sentence and frown.

_...it ate away at her sanity and burned searing holes into her mind..._

Holes. The word 'holes'. It doesn't fit with the effect she's trying to create. I rack my brain, trying to think of a replacement, but I can't find one. I leave another comment in red, telling her to change it though. 'Holes' has to go.

I continue reading the ending.

_But, it was in her fate to want more than she could have. Even though she had never wanted very much. She had dreamed of fame the way the birds dreamed of touching the stars. She had wanted it, yes, wished for it, yes. But as her fingers slowed and the music came to a gradual close, she knew that she had never really wanted it._

_All her life she had yearned for something else. Someone else. Someone who, with one glance could send her soul shattering to pieces, or with one word drive all the sanity from her mind until she was reduced to a shivering, sobbing wreck of blood and tears._

_Someone by the name of Murakami Kaito._

_She smiled as she stood and took a bow, her eyes never leaving the empty seat in the middle of the front row._

_Tonight was the night of his engagement._

_And all she had of him was his empty seat._

I shake my head as I save the changes I've made to the document and close the window. The good thing about Sayuri's angsty pieces is that they're rather on the short side. Problem is, each word is enough to make me feel miserable. Sometimes, I wonder what she goes through, in order to be able to produce such deep and dark work.

I check the clock. It's half past eight. Shit. She could be online right now.

I sign onto _Fanfiction Corner_ and check my friends list. Sure enough, I see _Cheery Blossom_ near the top of the list, her penname in green.

A conversation window pops up almost immediately.

_Hi_, Sayuri says.

_Hey_, I reply instantaneously.

She gets to the point right away.

_Did you get my latest oneshot?_ She asks.

_'C Minor'?_ I ask. _Yeah, I got it._

_How was it?_ Sayuri presses. _Did you find anything wrong with it?_

I snort. Typical Sayuri. Name and fame haven't changed her one bit. Every time I beta something for her, it's always the same question from her side. _Is there anything wrong with it?_

_Just a few minor grammar errors and awkward words_, I answer. _I gave you a couple of suggestions, but apart from that, there was nothing else to fix._

There's a slight pause.

_I'll send it to you right now_, I offer.

_Thanks_, she says.

I get to work attaching the edited document to a message body and send it to her. Within a minute, the task is complete.

_Sent it_, I say. _Check your email._

_I will_, Sayuri says. _Are you sure there's nothing else that needs fixing?_

I find myself nodding patiently as I type in my reply.

_Your work lives up to your standards perfectly_, I answer.

_Perfectly?_ She repeats.

Oh right. She's an obsessive perfectionist. I forgot about that.

_Well, since you're desperate for criticism, I have one comment to make_, I say before I can stop myself.

But once I handle my thoughts, it's too late. My words are now pasted across the screen, clearly visible to both Sayuri and I. Too late for me to take them back.

_What?_ Sayuri demands in a flash. I sigh. If I knew what she looks like, I could visualize her jumping up and down in her seat agitatedly.

_All your fics_, I write, _are so depressing..._

There. I told her.

But she surprises me.

_Are you serious?_ She asks.

_Yup_, I reply. _I mean, can't you write something a little bit lighter?_

Sayuri's taking a while to reply. I'll bet she's staring at the screen confusedly, wondering who the hell abducted her beta.

_I actually wanted to talk about another story I had a brainwave for_, Sayuri says, completely ignoring my earlier comment.

I feel a bit put out as I reply. _Okay._

_It's AxK, as usual_, Sayuri explains. _I have the teaser down, but not much else._

I nod slowly.

_Okay. What do you have?_

There's a slight pause while she types in her teaser. When it finally appears, I blink before reading it.

_'You're mine.' 'I don't see your name on me.' The next day, he got his name tattooed on her arm._

My eyebrows furrow.

_That's it?_ I ask, somewhat sceptically.

Her answer seems a bit hesitant.

_Yes..._

I sigh as I type in my words.

_It sounds more like a oneshot than a novel-length story,_ I point out. _It's too short._

_I want it to be concise_, Sayuri argues. _I don't have years like I did with all my other fics._

_True_, I admit. _But what about plot? You don't seem to have that._

_This isn't about plot_, Sayuri explains. _It's about character. The whole thing is a focus on the feelings of the characters. Each and every emotion that they experience._

_It sounds captivating_, I tell her. _But to be frank, 99 percent of your readers will find it exceptionally dull._

I can sense Sayuri's face falling.

_You really think so?_ She asks, a tad dejectedly.

_Yes_, I answer adamantly. _Look...the whole experimentation with emotions thing...you've done it plenty of times over. The only difference to your writing right now is that it's gotten more depressing._

_Thanks_, Sayuri tells me sarcastically.

_Sorry_, I apologize. _I'm just trying to tell you what I feel. Don't take it personally._

_I'm not_, Sayuri responds immediately. _You're my beta and I trust you._

Inexplicably, my face breaks into a real smile. Not nearly as big as the one on my ten-year-old self's picture behind me, but still, quite big by my standards. I don't even know why. It has something to do with the words that have just flashed onto the screen. They just look so good.

_You're my beta and I trust you..._

Who else in this world trusted me? Apart from this faceless entity sitting miles and miles away behind a computer screen, no one really.

It felt nice to be trusted.

_Okay_, I answer. _Then as your beta, I have some advice for you._

_Spill._ Sayuri's getting impatient, I see.

I don't dawdle. My fingers fly over the keyboard as fast as they can.

_Try writing a different genre,_ I suggest. _As an experiment. You started one off. You sent me the first chapter, remember?_

Sayuri catches on.

_You mean 'Matchmaker'?_ She asks. I can tell she's a bit surprised.

_Yeah_, I say. _It was short, sweet, and a break from your usual angsty stuff. What's more, you had the space and opportunity to encompass a bit of everything. On top of your dark angsty musings, you had a bit of humour, romance, sarcasm..._

I pause to give her a moment to absorb what I was saying.

_You get what I mean, right?_

_Yeah_... She trails off. _It was just something I wrote on the fly. I thought it seemed too happy for the AxK pairing._

I roll my eyes and snort.

_Just label it as AU_, I tell her. _You're Cheery Blossom. No one will care if it's too happy or not._

There's another pause. I wonder if I've offended her so much, she won't respond anymore.

_Thanks so much, Lang,_ Sayuri finally says, surprising me. _I've had the worst day, and you just made it better._

Things start sliding into place as I reply.

_No problems_, I answer. _Just...try work on 'Matchmaker' some more, okay? If you have any more rough days, don't bring it out on your fanfiction. Talk to someone about it instead._

I hit 'enter' and pray that I guessed about her habits correctly.

Moments later, she answers.

_What if I have no one to talk to?_ She asks, and I'm so startled, I answer without thinking. Again.

_You've got me_.

Her reply, when it comes, seems quite staggered.

_Thank you..._

For the first time in my life, I wonder what Sayuri _does _outside of writing fanfiction. She has a life outside of that. Just how miserable is her life if she just swallows all of her "rough days" and lets it all out through writing fanfiction? Is it really because she has no one else to talk to? Can she really be that lonely?

Deep down, I know the answer's _yes_. I know because right now, I know exactly how she feels. There are people around me, but I don't feel like talking to any of them. I don't like sharing my feelings with anyone I know, plus I don't know anyone who cares enough to listen to me. The one person I believed patient enough for the task turned her back on me, and I don't know who else I have.

Deep down, I'm just as lonely as she is...

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I don't own CCS. The plotline of _Cerberus_ is probably recycled from different areas too...

**a/n:** Awww. Sometimes, I feel guilty for making them suffer so much.

I'm contemplating on ending the hatred soon. ("Soon" meaning in another two or three chapters. I think. I hope).

Anyway, summer school's ending, and I'm leaving for New York in four days. I'm planning on updating _Undercover_ before then, and I'm not going to be home for almost two weeks. Just warning in advance.

Reviews, ideas, scene suggestions, feedback, etc. are all **heartily welcomed!**

**Next Chapter:** Sakura gets a surprise visit from someone. Syaoran finds he's got a lot more betaing to do. We meet Fujitaka finally! What else happens? Find out next chapter, in _Afterglow_.

**Please do review! I'm trying to maintain 30 reviews a chapter. Think you love me enough to do it for me?**

**:D**

**_-Celestiana_**


	5. Afterglow

_**Literary..**_

_**-**_

**Summary: **Sakura is a famous fanfiction author. Syaoran is the best beta she's ever had. They share a world made of the words and tales they weave and write. But they don't know that they know each other...in real life.

_**-**_

**Full Summary: **He promised he'd come back for her. She promised to wait for him. But a misunderstanding creates a giant rift between Sakura and Syaoran, enough to break the powerful friendship they once shared. To escape fate's blows, Sakura seeks solace in fanfiction and soon becomes a famous author on the busy _Fanfiction Corner, _under the alias Sayuri. She's lucky enough to meet Lang, and he becomes her greatest fan, faithful beta, and online buddy/soulmate. Wait until she finds out that "Lang" is really Syaoran, the cause of all her troubles...

**-**

**a/n:** 140! Wow, I never expected so many! Thank you so much, and I'm terribly, terribly sorry for the long delay. It took me the better part of three weeks to write chapter 8 of _Undercover_, and after that, I've been working on this.

So, I've made this chapter less angsty. It's more of a transition chapter, to prepare for a shift in attitudes **-hint hint-**.

I'm surprised that some people found the plotline of _Cerberus_ quite awesome. **-blinks-** I'm so flattered... **-blushes-**

Anyway, I'll move onto the long-awaited **-cough-** chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Four. Afterglow

-

**Sakura's POV**

-

Chew. Chew. Swallow. Repeat.

Chew. Chew. Swallow. Repeat.

Chew. Chew. Swallow...

_Choke_.

As I lean over the table coughing like a sick person, Touya shakes his head noncommitally.

"Is my cooking really that bad?" he asks dryly as my coughing slowly dies down. "Or is the kaijuu just having problems chewing its food like a _normal_ human being?"

"I'm _not_ a kaijuu," I retort, my voice somewhat hoarse. "And you'd better be careful, because my foot's coming out of its cast today."

Seriously, when did he come up with that nickname anyway? He's gone on for years calling me that... It's less of an annoyance than it is a tradition right now. I close my eyes, trying not to imagine what might happen if he decides to show up at...I don't now...my _wedding_ or something. And if in the middle of a tearful and loving speech, he suddenly calls me "_kaijuu_" amidst all the dignified people present...

Oh Kami-sama. What if the nickname sticks? What if everyone there suddenly decides that "_kaijuu_" suits me better than "_Sakura_"? What if my boss and colleagues start calling me that? What if, even worse, my _husband_ starts calling me that?

The horror! I must get Touya to stop calling me "_kaijuu_". The honour and respect of my future self is possibly at stake here!

...On second thought, if I explain the situation to Touya, he'll only laugh at me. Plus, he'll just be motivated to think of even more annoying nicknames for me, because I _know_ how much the honour and respect of his little sister means to him.

Anyway, I don't have to worry about my future boss hearing this embarrassing nickname because, if my plans for the future run according to plan, then:

_**a)**_ I will be in school until I have gray hair,

_**b)**_ If by chance I happen to become a professional hematologist or oncologist before the age of 30, then most likely I will be my own boss,

_**c)**_ If the case arises that I do get a boss, I will still be on the other side of the globe (i.e. America), where the general population do not speak or comprehend Japanese,

and,

_**d)**_ I won't get married anyway, so no need for a wedding!

Touya, you may "_kaijuu_" away to your heart's content.

I finish eating the rest of my breakfast and help Touya clear the table. It's been a month since I broke my ankle that terrible day at school, and it's about time it started getting better. As a matter of fact, there's barely any pain at all! (Touya's taken advantage of this by getting me to work around the house a bit more. Hmph.)

"So what are you going to be doing today?" he asks me as we pile the dishes into the sink. "You're not going back to work at the clinic until next weekend, right?"

"Right," I affirm. "I'll probably be doing homework, and later Tarou might come around."

Touya nods.

"Okay," he says, and we begin washing the dishes.

A _lot_ happened this past month, and it was enough to drive a girl crazy. Fortunately, my sanity held up and now things aren't quite as bad as they were three weeks ago.

Let me recap:

The day after I broke my ankle, I was moping about in my room, barely able to move or do any work, etc. Anyway, I was sitting in my room with the worst case of writer's block when the doorbell rang. As Touya was at the clinic with Dad, I answered the door.

When I saw Tarou standing on the other side of the door, I nearly fell over. I was about to ask him if he was stalking me, but then he told me that he'd heard from Meiling that I broke my ankle and after getting my address from her, he came to see if I was all right.

It was, in his own creepy stalker-ish way, kind of sweet of him.

What's more, he didn't press me to go out or anything. We just had a short conversation by the door and surprisingly enough, it didn't feel awkward. He told me that he'd fractured his ankle back in the seventh grade and gave me a few tips on how to walk around less painfully (which worked, amazingly). Then he said that he'd burned a DVD of one of his favourite movies for me (at which point I was feeling guilty again). He said that it was released earlier this year but it didn't show in theatres, and he thought I'd like it. Finally, he wished me a speedy recovery and told me he was looking forward to seeing me Monday.

It felt really, really weird, and I went back to my room in a bit of a daze, when Kero pounced on the DVD and shoved it into my computer. I was expecting it to be an X-rated comedy or porn flick (considering it never showed in theatres), so when I heard a strain of strings and pianoforte coming over my speakers, my jaw dropped.

I stared at the menu, which read _Persuasion_. It took me a good ten seconds to realize that this was obviously a remake of one of my most favourite books of all time (well, I treasure anything written by Jane Austen, but _Persuasion_ and _Pride and Prejudice_ take the prize). Obviously, Tarou had better taste than I'd given him credit for.

It didn't take me long to figure out that he was infinitely different around his friends than he was alone. For one, he was actually quite polite when he talked to me (and quite obnoxious in the company of school friends). For another, he pretended to gag at the sight of anything more classic than _Harry Potter_ or _Narnia_ in school, but whenever we talked, it was usually about books we shared opinions on. And what astonished me was just how much Tarou _read_.

_It's so weird_, I told Lang once during our random conversations about real life. _A guy like him, you'd think he wouldn't be able to string two words together. But he reads Austen and Orwell in his spare time!_

I began talking to Lang more often too. We began exchanging stories about our lives. I told him about Tarou (code-named _Yuu_) and how I accidentally ended up agreeing to go out with him even though I didn't want to (Lang found the whole situation hilarious, to my dismay). I told him about how he showed up at my door (I left out the part about breaking my ankle, I thought it made me sound like a klutz) and gave me a copy of _Persuasion_. I told him about my confusion, about whether I liked him as a friend or something more, because I wasn't sure...

_Look at it this way_, Lang had replied. _It's obvious he cares about you. Maybe you should give it a try, since you seem to be attracted to him yourself._

In return for his advice, I listened to Lang's stories, about some girl named Aimi who'd been his best friend when he was little, and how he moved away for a few years but never forgot her, and when he came back to town just for her, he found out that she'd already gotten a boyfriend...

_You should forget about her_, I suggested. _If she can't even take notice of you, then she's obviously not worth your time._

_I know_, Lang answered, evidently unsure of himself. _It's just that, I get the feeling I've done something wrong._

_Have you?_ I asked.

_No_, came his immediate response._ When I first saw her, she was so cold and distant. It would have been easier if she just didn't remember who I was. But now – she really seems to hate me._

I empathized with him all too deeply.

_I know exactly how you feel_, I told him. _I know someone who could be an exact replica of Aimi..._

And then I proceeded to tell him about Syaoran under the pseudonym _Shin_. I told him about how, like Aimi, "Shin" and I became best friends while we were kids. I told him about how "Shin" moved away and how infrequently his letters came. I told him about how I visited "Shin" the day he moved back into my town and the way he slammed the door into my face. I told him about the cold bitter rift that sprung between us, our games of ignoring each other, pretending we didn't exist...

_He sounds like a jerk_, Lang remarked after a long pause. _He'd get along perfectly with Aimi_.

I laughed hollowly at the thought of it.

_You should be glad that you've got Yuu at least_, he continued. _Someone who genuinely seems interested in you. Besides, I doubt Shin would be able to hold down a girl anyway._

_You'd be surprised_, I replied grimly, relating to him the tale of what had occurred the Friday after I broke my ankle...

-

_**Flashback**_

-

The bell rings, interrupting Kimura-sensei in her ceaseless lecturing. Eager to get out of this room, I stand up quickly, ignoring the lances of pain that go shooting through my immobile, plaster-encased foot. Grabbing my backpack in one hand and my crutch in the other, I awkwardly make my way out of the classroom. By now, I've sort of gotten used to walking with my leg in a cast. It doesn't make the entire situation any less glamourous, however...

As I near my locker, I see Syaoran at his locker, Meiling by his side. Instinctively, I slow my paces from "tortoise" to "snail". If there's anything that makes me feel worse about myself, it's being close to Syaoran, especially since he witnessed quite a telling exchange between Touya and I last week. And, as much as I struggle to keep the household accounts in balance, I also don't want anyone to know. So far, apart from Touya, me, Dad and Dad's doctors, no one knows that Kinomoto Fujitaka has leukemia. Not my teachers, not my principal, and not even my friends. Except...now that I'm so busy, I don't even have time to talk with them. I only talk to Tomoyo and Eriol occasionally, because they still seem to show some interest in my well-being.

But after being in such a hellish experience, I want less and less to do with friends in general. What can I do? I don't have time to talk with them or shop with them or hang with them. I can't play dress-up with Tomoyo – I'm not ten years old anymore! The more time I spend alone at the clinic working, or in the hospital waiting rooms seeing my dad grow weaker and weaker from the medication he gets, or in front of my computer trying to escape it all by writing pretty words to a faceless friend in an unspecified cyberspace, the more I realize that I have less and less in common with normal people.

How am I supposed to listen to Tomoyo wailing about how her mother wants her to go into business and is effectively "ruining her life"? How can I do that, when at this time, I'd _kill_ for a mother to get me onto my feet and help me run the house at least! How am I supposed to nod sympathetically when Chiharu complains that her parents have slashed her pocket money when at the moment, I'm _scrambling_ for pennies to pay off the house bills!

Of course I understand that most teenagers don't have to go through this kind of stress, but that's exactly why I can't associate with "most teenagers". It's not like I'm avoiding talking to people just because I think I'm better than them. It's nothing like that...

I'm jolted back to reality when I see a flash of blonde hair appear by my locker.

_What the -?_

I lean on my crutch, my pace quickening as I see Syaoran turn to face the blonde who's now standing next to him.

Kuroki Yoko.

Okay, I may harbour slight prejudices toward her, but Kami-sama knows that the girl is nothing better than a blonde gazelle in a school uniform. Maybe it's because she's better than me in English class or maybe it's because she beat me in last year's track meet (by playing dirty, I may add. We were jumping the last hurdle and she crashed right into me! We both fell to the ground, but it was _her_ luck that she managed to fall over the finish line!)... Either way, I don't like anything about her. From her perfectly straight hair to the soles of her _designer leather shoes_, I just can't _stand_ her...

I frown as I see Yoko grin easily at Syaoran, who looks at her as he leans on his locker door. She says something, twirling a lock of so-obviously bleached hair around her finger, her wide blue eyes sparkling.

Urgh. She reminds me of one of those plastic American models, with her vapid smile and bimbo qualities. Or maybe it's just me choosing to bypass her nonexistent good qualities and focus on the characteristics that grate most on my nerves.

I sense rather than see Syaoran's gruff response, and then Yoko giggles a little. Meiling rolls her eyes and walks off, leaving Syaoran and Yoko alone by the lockers.

I avert my eyes as I step up to my locker. It's none of my business what Syaoran does in his spare time. I remind myself of his hypocrisy, the way he slammed the door in my face and the cold treatment I'm still getting from him. Every time I'm threatened by his heart-stopping amber eyes, I remind myself of the way he sneered at me hobbling from PE last week with a broken ankle. I remember that he indirectly called me a whore, and my heart hardens again.

"Excuse me," I say to Yoko with my usual curtness. "You're in my way."

She raises her eyebrows as she steps out of my way.

"Wouldn't be the first time, would it, Sakura-chan?" she asks me, a wicked grin spreading on her face. "I'm just lucky that whenever I get in your way, I end up on the other side of the finish line before you do."

My lip curls as I face her.

"That's right," I tell her. "Last spring happened because you were _lucky_. That's not going to save you this time."

"Of course," Yoko agrees, her voice laden with sarcasm. "But your broken ankle will."

She bursts into giggles, and _to my horror_, Syaoran chuckles as well!

My face turns red as Yoko continues.

"Anyway, the big race is coming up in two weeks," she says, as though Amaya-sensei _hasn't_ been reminding me every moment in PE, "and I was looking forward to beating you again. But since you broke your ankle -"

"I assure you it wasn't on purpose," I answer tightly, feeling my hands clench into fists. "As you beating me, well, you could always do what you did in April. What was that again? You tripped over the hurdle, fell flat on your face and hoped to get me off my feet in the process. Oh, and prayed that you'd land on the other side of the finish line. Worked like a charm, didn't it?"

"Bitter, are we?" Yoko observes snidely. "I can't _stand_ sore losers. Wouldn't you agree, Li-kun?"

Li-kun? _Li-kun?!_ He lets her call him _Li-kun?!_

"I don't mind sore losers," Syaoran says coldly. "But sore losers with _attitudes_ really get to me."

I flung my locker door open, my insides boiling. He did _not_ just say that.

"Anyway," I say to Yoko, pretending as though Syaoran doesn't exist (which he doesn't), "it's been a pleasure talking to you. Although I can't admit, the feeling will intensify when I see Meiling beat you in two weeks' time. Oh, _or_ when I beat you in every event next April, as I've done several times before."

Yoko gives me a cold little smile, which I return.

"We'll see," she says slowly, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "I've been training nonstop since April. I just hope you'll still be in top form by April, being injured and all that..."

_Don't you worry_, I thought grimly, replacing my calculus, physics and history books with biology and English binders. _I'm no stranger to hard work._

Our conversation was over, Yoko sensed. She tucked a strand of hair behind an ear and addressed Syaoran again.

"Oh, by the way Li-kun, you don't happen to be free tomorrow evening, by any chance...?" she asks, and my biology textbook nearly slips out of my hand.

I see Syaoran shrug out of the corner of my eye.

"I guess," he says noncommitally. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason, just..." Yoko trails off, walking around me and stepping right up to him. "I was wondering if we could work on that physics assignment together? You know, I'm prone to a lot of careless mistakes and since you're so smart, you could help me out a bit...?"

_That __bitch_, I think to myself, rolling my eyes. _That's not a homework party she's asking for; it's practically a date!_

"Sure," Syaoran says, and my mouth drops open a bit. _What?!_ "Where do you want to meet up?"

Yoko giggles as she pulls him down the hallway. "Well, I know a good place..." she starts and then her words are lost to my ears as I straighten and turn around. For an instant, my eyes meet Syaoran's and it's as though the world stops turning. Then, he turns to face Yoko and I fix my eyes on the ground in front of me again.

-

_**End Flashback**_

-

_Well_, Lang had said after I finished relating to him how "Shin" had sided with Yoko (I nicknamed her _Paris_, because she reminds me of useless, drippy, no-point-in-existing Paris Hilton), humiliated me by indirectly calling me a sore loser with attitude, and then gone out on a date with her.

_I'll give you one thing_, he said after a pause. _Shin's not the most diplomatic person in the world, or the most subtle._

_Of course not_, I'd agreed, thankful to Lang for being the one person who could listen to my trivial little problems without partiality.

_But as for the date with Paris_, Lang continued, _I think you might be overreacting a little. Maybe Shin's just really slow and thought all Paris wanted was help with physics homework._

I'd rolled my eyes at that.

_Is that possible?_ I demanded. _I mean, if a girl walked up to you and asked you to meet her on a weekend evening to help her with homework, wouldn't you be suspicious in the least?_

_Not really_, came Lang's response. _This girl at my new school asked me to help her do her physics homework on a Saturday evening. We met up at the library and spent two hours working in complete silence, except for when I occasionally had to explain things to her._

_Oh,_ I answered, a bit dejected. _But you're a lot smarter than Shin is. I'll bet he's taken by shallow girls like Paris – he's almost polite to them!_

_And he's so cold to you?_ Lang asked. _That's really weird._

Eager to change the subject, I asked him how things were going with his Aimi friend.

_Oh_, came Lang's answer. _Not great, actually. I've made myself a few new friends – like the one who asked me to help her that day – but I get the feeling that Aimi's jealous._

I frowned.

_Why would she be jealous?_ I asked. _She's the one who ditched you, got a boyfriend, and acted like an ice queen. Why should she care whether you've got new friends or not?_

_I have no idea_, Lang stated. _We avoid each other, but on the few occasions that we can't, things just get so awkward... But in a weird way, I want it to be awkward..._

_Because you like it when she's jealous_, I finished for him. _It makes you feel as though you have some power over her still. As though she wishes she could take back what she did and be friends with you again._

I think I hit the mark more accurately than I'd hoped, because when Lang replied, he seemed astonished.

_That's exactly it_, he said. _At times I wish she'd just break it off with her boyfriend. I get the feeling she isn't even happy with him._

There was something I had to ask Lang. Something I could only ask Lang, because at that point, I sensed that our relationship had never seemed more real. Before, we had been close, but that didn't compare to the newfound bond we discovered as we shared stories of our lives and exchanged our stupidest fears, our troubling little woes. It was as though we were living parallel lives, and it only seemed right that I share this most troubling of questions with Lang – because he would know the answer. Only he seemed to understand the odd pain I felt.

_If Aimi ever came back to you_, I asked slowly. _If she came back to you and wanted to start over again, as friends...could you forgive her for being so ignorant and hurting you so much?_

The pause that followed was so long, I'd feared that Lang was offended and didn't even want to answer.

But he did, at long last.

_I don't know_, he answered. _For pride's sake, I'd like to say no, but...if she came to me and was truly, truly sorry, I'd forgive her in a heartbeat. I don't think I can be truly angry at her – not even now._

I felt a lump growing in the back of my throat as I read those words, understanding completely what Lang couldn't convey in words. Because the depth of the bond he had once shared with Aimi was the same bond that I had once shared with Syaoran. And even now, seeing him so cold and unresponsive, I knew that a part of me was clearly susceptible to him. A part of me was still ten years old, waiting for him with arms outstretched.

A part of me would forgive him, no matter what he did to me.

And that helplessness was what angered me the most.

* * *

I guess it's safe to say that things deteriorated after that Friday. Syaoran was pulled into a crowd of simpering, flirtatious girls, while I surprisingly found shelter in Tarou's company. Not to say that we became a couple or anything. I genuinely tried to give Tarou a chance, following Lang's advice as best as I could. I sat with him in physics and at lunch, the both of us ignoring the catcalls of his obnoxious friends. He learned that I was only a bitch for defensive purposes, and I learned that he acted like a bastard because it helped him mingle with his friends more easily.

"It's such a turnoff, though," I couldn't help pointing out. "Why don't you act like yourself more often?"

To my dismay, he turned red. But we put it behind us, and for the first time in ages, I found myself coming out of the shell Dad's illness had forced me to put up. Because, regardless of Tarou's intentions or personality type, he showed a genuine concern in my well-being that even Tomoyo failed to display. Sure, initially I wasn't inclined to going out with him, but after seeing just how hard he was trying and how _normal_ he made me feel, it felt wrong trying to turn him down. Besides, who was I waiting for anyway? Syaoran? If I was, I was wasting my time.

I invited Tarou home one day, and to my surprise, even Touya was won over. I suppose that, more than anything, spurred the bond between Tarou and I. Maybe we weren't _quite_ the boyfriend-girlfriend pair that Tarou had envisioned, but I was still the closest girl friend he'd ever had before.

We watched movies together, went out for coffee, traded English papers... I even let him kiss me at my locker once. (Although I must confess to Kami-sama that my motives were purely selfish. Syaoran was at his locker, Yoko at his side, and at that moment, I just _had_ to... And I can't deny the satisfaction that rose in my chest when Syaoran slammed his locker door shut harder than usual.)

Tarou told me he wanted to go to the University of Tokyo, and wanted to become an economist when he grew up. In a moment of rare openness, I told him about my ambitions of travelling across the world, to study in America's leading institutions and become a professional hematologist.

"Wow," Tarou said, wide-eyed. "I'd never have imagined Kinomoto Sakura to have such big plans. Um – what's a hematologist, exactly?"

"A physician specializing in blood," I answered.

"Why blood?" Tarou asked, grimacing a little. One of the first things I learned about him was that he couldn't stand the sight of blood. It made him woozy.

I shrugged.

"It's interested me," I replied vaguely. I couldn't tell him the real reason a career as a hematologist interested me so much. I couldn't tell him that ever since Dad had been in close contact with hematologists after being diagnosed with leukemia, I had resolved to become one, maybe researching to find a cure for my Dad if he hadn't been cured by then...

"Where exactly in America do you want to go?" Tarou continued, accepting my cryptic answer. That was one thing I liked about Tarou. He respected my personal space. If I gave him an unsatisfying answer, he didn't press for details.

"Anywhere prestigious, I guess," I mused. "Harvard, Yale, Cornell, Stanford...I applied to Yale early, you know. About a month ago."

Tarou gazed at me with dawning comprehension.

"So _that's_ why you were following Arai-san and Takahashi-san with those reference letters!" he remarked with a grin. "And there I was thinking that you'd gone insane or something!"

Things went on in this vein for the next couple of weeks. A strange sort of trust sprung between Tarou and I, and while it did make me feel slightly, slightly awkward, I realized that I valued Tarou's friendship quite highly. I could never think of him as a boyfriend, of course, but it struck me that we had unexpectedly become, well, quite good friends.

In mid-December, the regional track meet was held, and I was forced to sit in the stands with Tarou and watch as Meiling and Yoko warmed up on the field, wearing the colours of Seijou High. As they cleared the first heat easily, qualifying for the hurdles quarterfinals easily, I wished with all my heart that I hadn't broken my ankle, that I could be down there doing one of the things I was a natural at.

Tarou squeezed my hand, a gesture that astonished me with its boldness.

"You'll be there next spring," he said in a low voice. "Don't worry about it."

I smiled a little in thanks and resumed watching the races.

To my immense satisfaction, Yoko stumbled in the quarterfinals, barely making it into the semifinals. She raced cleanly through the semis though, and landed herself a spot in the finals. She finished fifth overall, and my spirits lightened as I saw her kick at the ground vehemently as the top three were awarded their medals.

Meiling had a good day that day: she finished first in the quarterfinals, third in the semis, and, when the results of the finals' mad scramble were posted, it turned out that she won second place overall. A girl from Tokyo's Kikokushijo Academy finished first. I recognized her vaguely from last year. She had been in the tenth grade then, finishing first in the junior rounds. This was her first time in the senior rounds and she'd already beaten out Meiling. Impressive.

"Nice one," I told Meiling after hobbling down to the track. "Another medal to add to the collection, I suppose?"

"I guess," Meiling said, examining the burnished silver piece hanging around her neck critically. "I'd have preferred a gold one, but hey. We can't all have lucky accidents like Yoko, now can we?"

We both snorted as we saw Yoko cling to Syaoran's arm and complain loudly about how she'd hurt her foot in the quarterfinals, and how hard it was for her to bounce back...

"She did fine in the semifinals," Meiling muttered, rolling her eyes. "She's just full of shit, that's all."

As the saying goes, "_My enemy's enemy is my friend_". True, Meiling and I didn't exactly become friends that day. But at least we sorted out our differences and were united in our dislike of Kuroki Yoko.

Before long, an idea flew into my head. I'd been a bit stumped writing _Matchmaker_, but after thinking of Yoko, an idea flew into my head. I couldn't wait to tell Lang about this new development.

_You're making Kohana a ditz?_ Lang asked sceptically when I told him. _That's not exactly...original, you know._

_Not exactly a ditz_, I asserted. _Just glamourous, world-famous and extremely spoiled._

There was a slight pause.

_Explain_, Lang answered, clearly in need for some substantiation.

_Okay_, I explained. _So far, Aisha's a workaholic due to become the new CMO in Kaito's company, which is when she gets the results of the matchmaker survey, with Kaito listed as her number one match._

_Yes..._Lang affirmed.

_Aisha develops a silent crush on the company's CEO but is never noticed by him_, I continued. _This continues for about a year_.

_Okay_, Lang said. _Then what?_

_Then Aisha gets assigned a giant presentation at an important conference_, I explained. _She aces it, catches Kaito's eye and they begin to develop a professional/casual relationship._

_Okay_, Lang said. _Where does Kohana play into this?_

_Kohana's a model that represents the company's new ad campaign for a product launch_, I replied, wincing. Somehow, I was never that familiar with the whole corporate world idea. I didn't even know how half of those procedures worked!

_Okay_, Lang repeated.

_She immediately feels threatened by Aisha's manner and tries to humiliate her. When that doesn't work, she ends up going out with Kaito_, I finished.

Lang was silent for a while.

_It sounds a bit cliched_, he said finally. _But I have faith in you to turn this plot bunny into something worth reading._

It was enough to get me writing again.

And then, as December grew to a close, holidays drawing nearer, the teachers at school went crazy, piling tests and other crap so close to each other, I thought I'd faint just thinking about my workload. The past week was a blur of continuous tests, assignments, labs, orals... When the bell rang last period on Friday, even I felt my spirits lighten. Just one more test the following Monday. And it was in math. Finally, I could relax a bit over the weekend and get some writing done.

But the best thing was waiting for me as I got home. Specifically?

A letter of acceptance. From Yale University, offering me admission and full tuition.

Of course, there was only one thing I could do as I read those words.

I screamed. _Loud_.

Touya came scrambling down, thinking I'd broken my other leg or something. But when he heard the news – well, there were mixed reactions. Let's not get into those.

So, here I am in the kitchen, the next day, standing with Touya and doing the dishes with him. Things have been rough, but they're shaping out okay. Touya got a new job that pays really well, and things are going kind of smoothly at home right now. Even Dad's working right now: he's teaching an online university course and he's earning too. So in between their combined earnings and Dad's insurance, the bills at least are getting paid. So that's good.

"Done!" I announce, wiping the last dish clean and passing it to Touya. "I'm going upstairs now. Don't forget, I have to go to the hospital at five!"

"I hear you, kaijuu," Touya mutters, comically rubbing his ears. I toss a glare at him before heading up the stairs slowly. On the way, I bump into Dad.

"Morning, Otou-san!" I greet, flashing him a grin.

Dad smiles back, and I'm struck by how thin and grey he looks. Sure, he's been on a lot of strong medication right now, but...isn't he supposed to be getting stronger, not weaker? His cheekbones are more prominent, there's a mass of grey in his limp-looking hair, and even his eyes don't seem as bright as usual.

"Good morning, Sakura," he says and his voice is so comforting and steady, if I close my eyes, I can almost imagine that everything's alright again. I'm ten years old, full of happiness and energy, with friends who care about me. My precious otou-san is Japan's most prominent archaeological scholar, devoid of leukemia or any other malignant disease...

"You look happy today," he observes, his smile growing warmer.

"It's a happy day," I say, realizing that it's been _ages_ since I've been truly happy. "My cast's coming off, my foot is getting better, my marks are doing great, the bills are getting paid _and_ I'm going to Yale on a full scholarship!"

Now that I think about it, things can hardly get any better than this. Ah, bliss.

Dad's eyes brighten a bit. I see happiness and pain warring there and I avert my gaze.

"Just be happy," he says softly. "I know that – that things haven't been easy for you, but – just stay happy and smiling. Like you are right now."

I nod, feeling my own eyes sting. Somehow, I can never stay strong when I'm around Dad. It drives me crazy whenever I'm around him, because my entire being is focused on him and only on him. It's focused on memorizing every detail of his face, every last nuance in his voice. I can't bear to do this, to actively keep treasuring every moment with him, knowing that one day, he might not be here anymore. And yet, if I don't, there's that horrible fear of losing him and not remembering what he looks like.

It's hard enough not remembering _one_ parent's face. I can't imagine what'll happen if I forget what the other's looks like, too.

-

**Syaoran's POV**

**-**

It's such a nice day outside. The sky's clear for once, the sunshine makes the air seem warmer by about ten degrees, and there are actually people walking around on the streets. Everything seems so relaxed and carefree, it really does feel like we're on holidays or something.

I glance back at the math textbook open on my desk, with rows and rows of complicated-looking integration problems in fine black text printed boldly against the stark white background. I roll my eyes, frowning at one integral that I just can't solve. I wrestled with it for about twenty minutes, gave up, circled it, and moved on. Now I've finished all eighty-seven questions on the integration unit test review that Arai-sensei gave us.

_Except_ goddamned question 87f.

I glare at the offending function, trying to clear my head as I tackle it once more.

_Okay_, I tell myself. _How do you find the integral of _x_ over (_x-1

As far as Arai-sensei's lessons go, I'm clueless. This function doesn't follow any standard laws, so I definitely can't look in class lessons for any hints. Both numerator and denominator have the same slope, so using substitution is pointless. And I've already tried splitting the function into two separate integrals, which simplify into a beautifully straightforward statement.

Which is wrong, according to the back of the book.

I groan. Dead end, once again.

I vaguely consider calling someone up to compare answers. It's something I'd do for physics or biology or history, maybe. But for calculus or anything math-related...let's just say that my pride wouldn't let me accept help from anyone. Anyway, I've always managed to solve everything in the end, because math just comes naturally to me. And it just feels so much better struggling through a question and solving it yourself. At least, that's what I feel.

Anyway, knowing the kids in Arai-sensei's advanced class, they probably don't even go past the tenth question on the reviews we get. Usually, they all come to _me_ for help.

Or Sakura.

Hm.

_There's a thought_, I think to myself sardonically. I can imagine the phone conversation right now.

_Hey Sakura, it's me, Syaoran. I was wondering if you've solved question 87f on the math review yet? ...Yes, I know you hate my guts. I happen to hate yours too right now._

I shake my head. Well, maybe that was putting things a bit too strongly. I don't think I _hate _Sakura. But..._exasperated_ or _frustrated_ is just too light an expression, I think...

...I wonder if she _has_ solved 87f by now. I mean, she _does_ have a 100 in calculus...

I shake my head violently. What am I talking about? I'm just as good as Sakura is. In fact, I know I'm better than her. If _she_ solved the problem by now, it obviously can't be that difficult. It's not like she's Einstein reincarnated or anything. (And if she _was_ the reincarnation of Einstein, she'd be acing physics, _not_ math).

The phone rings, startling me back to reality. Why the hell am I thinking about _Sakura_ of all people when there's one measly little integral separating me from my freedom?!

The phone rings again. I remember that Wei's out in the yard sparring with Meiling, and the servants are either in the kitchen or vacuuming.

I pick up the receiver.

"Li residence," I greet dully.

"_Hi, can I speak to Meiling?_" a female voice asks politely.

I frown. It sounds familiar. It's a voice I recognize, but I haven't heard it recently. Could it be...?

"She's busy right now," I say flatly, eager to get off the phone and continue working on the tricky integral. "Could you call back in about half an hour?"

"_Okay_," the vaguely-familiar voice complies, evidently subdued by the harshness of my voice. "_Thanks_."

"You're welcome," I say stiffly. I'm about to hang up but the girl speaks again, abruptly.

"_Syaoran?_" she asks suddenly. "_Is that you?_"

I freeze, almost dropping the phone. Was it Sakura on the other line? I can't think of anyone else who'd call me by my first name. But – why would she want to talk to me if it _is_ her on the other end?

"Y – Yes," I force out, trying not to sound apprehensive or wary in the slightest. "Who's this?"

"_Oh!_" the girl says with a laugh, and now I'm truly perplexed. "_I thought it was you, Syaoran. It's been a really long time. I don't know if you remember me. Tomoyo?_"

"Oh..." Realization dawns on me and I feel a bit stupid for panicking so quickly. "Tomoyo. Yeah, I remember you..."

Now I really feel stupid. I don't know what to say. Tomoyo and I, I guess we got along okay. I remember thinking she was kind of weird, the way she'd obsess over Sakura. But overall, she wasn't that bad. She and Meiling still get along very well.

"_I've been meaning to talk to you ever since you came back_," Tomoyo continues. "_But you know, we're all so busy with school and everything, I just haven't had the time._"

"I know what you mean," I reply, momentarily forgetting my calculus dilemmas. "So – uh – how are you?"

"_I'm fine, I guess_," Tomoyo replies. She talks about how she's struggling a bit in chemistry, but apart from that, everything's fine.

"_And how are you?_" she asks me. "_It's so strange having you back, after disappearing to Hong Kong for so many years!_"

"Um..." Suddenly, I realize I don't know what to say. "I'm okay."

But am I?

"_It must have been hard, coming back to Tomoeda_," Tomoyo observes and her voice is somewhat apologetic. "_Everything probably seems so different to you._"

"Every_one_, more than every_thing_," I mutter before I stop myself.

But Tomoyo's sense of perception hasn't dulled over the years.

"_You're talking about Sakura, aren't you?_" she asks, and there's a hint of sadness in her voice.

"No," I deny, although Tomoyo can probably see right through me, even on the phone. "Just – everyone in general -"

"_Syaoran-kun_," Tomoyo admonishes. There's a brief pause. "_I have to tell you something._"

I'm more than a little taken aback.

"Go right ahead," I tell her.

"_Not over the phone_," she explains, and my confusion increases. "_Can you come to the park today, at seven?_"

"Today?" I ask, glancing at my computer uncertainly. I was hoping to do a bit of betaing tonight...

"_You can come with Meiling_," Tomoyo suggests. "_And Eriol will be there too, if you're feeling awkward._"

I wince.

"Okay..." I agree resignedly, because I have a feeling Tomoyo won't leave me alone until I say yes.

"_Thanks, Syaoran!_" Tomoyo says cheerfully. "_I have to go now. I'll see you at seven, then_."

"Okay. Bye," I say uncertainly. The line goes dead and I put the receiver down, my mind buzzing.

What does Tomoyo want to talk about?

Mystified, I take a look at question 87f. It glares back at me, in all its unsolveable glory.

I hear an alert go off on my computer's speakers.

I glance at the screen. There's a conversation window flashing orange near the bottom right corner. I click on it, and the words, _Cheery Blossom has just messaged you!_ appear on the screen.

_Hey_, Sayuri says.

I scramble for the keyboard. I haven't talked to her in a week.

_Hey_, I reply. _It's been a while._

_I know_, Sayuri answers. _This week has been crazy._

_Have your teachers gone psychotic as well?_ I ask dryly.

Sayuri "laughs out loud". I tear my eyes away from the bright yellow smiley with the disconcertingly huge smile as she writes another response.

_Something like that_, she writes. _It's been a nightmare of tests, orals, summatives...you name it._

I shake my head in disbelief.

_Sometimes, I'm positive we live parallel lives_, I comment with a half-smile on my lips.

_We do_, Sayuri jokes. _What are you doing right now?_

I arch an eyebrow as I type in a reply.

_Studying for my last calculus test of the year_, I write.

There's a pause. I hope she hasn't bashed her head against the desk in response to my revealed "nerdiness".

_You'll never believe it_, she says. _I'm doing the exact same thing!_

My jaw _drops_. Literally.

_Are you serious?_ I ask with a laugh. _You're kidding me. You take calculus?_

_Advanced calculus_, Sayuri responds.

_Whoa_, I think to myself.

_Same here_, I tell her. _What topic are you doing right now?_ If it's integration, I think I will collapse on the spot.

_Integration_, Sayuri says.

My head crashes onto my textbook.

_Lang?_ Sayuri presses as I struggle into an upright position. _Are you there?_

_Yes_, I reply swiftly. _I'm here, but scared._

_Why?_ Sayuri asks.

_Because the list of coincidences is starting to get spooky_, I tease her.

She catches on right away.

_You're doing integration too?_

_Yes_, I answer. _Weird, isn't it?_

_Completely_, Sayuri muses. _This transcends 'weird'..._

Yes it does. This is sensationally weird.

Or maybe it isn't that weird. If Sayuri takes advanced calculus, wherever the hell in the world she is, then obviously her curriculum would run somewhere parallel to mine. Right?

_Or maybe our curriculums run in sync_, I point out.

_True_, Sayuri says.

There's a small pause.

My eyes flicker to 87f, and an idea sparks in my mind.

_Say, are you good at integrating?_ I ask her.

_I'm pretty good_, Sayuri answers. _Why?_

I throw caution to the winds as I type.

_Because I've been having a problem with this one question on my review, and I was wondering if you could help me..._

* * *

She even has the same textbook as me.

Weird.

Does that mean she lives in Japan too?

I'd always assumed she was Japanese, but living abroad somewhere. In Europe or America, maybe...

Anyway, at least 87f is solved. I have to hand it to Sayuri: she's pretty crafty. Why didn't I think of adding 1 and subtracting 1 from the numerator? It was so easy after that, to split the function into two separate integrals and simplify them into the textbook-approved statement: _x+ln (x-1)+c_.

It's a relief, having my math review over and done with. At least now I'm free to do whatever I want. Sayuri, bless her, sent me another two chapters of _Matchmaker_ over the last month. I've just been busy and haven't had time to read it yet.

I'll do that now.

I vaguely remember reading the first chapter. Something about Aisha being a marketing executive of some fashion designing company in New York, and getting promoted to Chief Marketing Officer circa Valentine's Day. The one thing I liked about Aisha's character was how – well – how much of a workaholic she was. You only see men represented like that in fanfiction nowadays.

And then Aisha got bullied by her coworker friend into checking the results of her Valentine's Day Matchmaker Quiz thing. Bit of a cliche, but I loved Aisha's reaction when she saw _Kaito Murakami_ as her number one match.

" _She frowned, blinking several times, trying to see if she'd read the name right._

"_Mr. Murakami?" she asked, her brow furrowing. "As in, our _president_?!"_

"_And _CEO_!" squealed Maya _(note: Maya is the aforementioned best friend)_. Her eyes glazed over as she daydreamed. "Your kids are going to be _gorgeous_!"_

_Aisha gazed at Maya dryly._

"_I haven't even _seen_ the guy yet, and you're already thinking about kids?" she asked, half amused, half exasperated._

_Maya broke out of daydream-mode and stared at Aisha, open-mouthed._

"_You're kidding me!" she exclaimed. "I knew you were new and all, but – honestly, you've _never_ seen Kaito Murakami before?"_

_Aisha shrugged._

"_I know what the back of his head looks like," she said, her voice indifferent._ "

I loved Aisha's dry, apathetic attitude. If there's one thing that's _completely_ overdone in _Cerberus_ fanon, it's portraying Aisha as some lovestruck, almighty, holier-than-thou damsel in distress. Ugh.

What a waste of a perfectly good character.

The thing that caught my attention about Sayuri's writing is that she always makes Aisha a character worth reading about. Like, in her last epic fic, _Dreaming of You_, Aisha was this phenomenally powerful princess who did a Cleopatra and usurped control of her (several) husbands' kingdoms, becoming one of the most influential and dangerous emperors of the land and allying with her brother Cerberus against the kingdoms ruled by Emperor Kaito.

Yes, _DoY_ was a disturbing fanfic to read. Yes, Aisha was power-hungry, bloodthirsty, and sworn to vengeance against Kaito (because he captured her in battle once and took her as a concubine). Yes, at times, I wished the _Fanfiction Corner_ hadn't disposed of its _NC-17_ rating...

But in between the smut, the violence, and the gloomy, gloomy ending (Kaito is killed by Cerberus and Aisha lives out her days honing her magical powers and her weapon mastery, in hopes to erase Kaito's face from her mind for good), it was fascinating. The fic was so different from everything else, and the narrative was written so well, it was no wonder that the fic became a smash hit.

But the thing that made _DoY_ click was Aisha. The way Sayuri wrote her, so effortlessly and so realistically. It was mesmerizing, almost...

Okay, enough venerating. I open a file that Sayuri sent me. Within moments, I'm reading, drawn into the hustle and bustle of Manhatten. I can visualize Aisha's face as she addresses Kaito, almost sense the faint disappointment in her voice as she speaks to the back of his chair or to the top of his head. I can hear the clacking of her heels against the floor as she walks back to her office, and see the peons in the hallways snapping to attention as she walks by, her authoritative, five-foot-ten frame commanding attention and obedience.

Within an hour, I'm done betaing. This chapter was more of a transition than anything else, detailing Aisha's first year as a CMO – and her gradually growing feelings for her CEO. I smirk as I close the document. I'd beta the next chapter too, but it's nearing seven and I told Tomoyo I'd meet her, along with Eriol and Meiling...

I sigh as I turn off my computer and clear off my desk. Within moments, Meiling bursts into my room and I allow myself to be marched out of the mansion in front of her, wondering what Tomoyo wants to talk to me about...

Outside, the sky's already quite dark. The breeze is chilly and despite myself, I shiver.

Chills go down my spine and suddenly, I'm on the alert.

"Anything wrong?" Meiling asks with a frown as I freeze, eyes roving around to spot a threat or disturbance.

I can't find any. It's so calm and peaceful here. I shake my head.

"No," I answer noncommitally, and resign myself to believe that maybe I'm getting paranoid again.

Maybe my senses are just haywire under all the stress I've been subjected to.

Maybe it's just the breeze blowing ripples onto the still water's surface.

Or maybe it's just the calm before the storm.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I don't own CCS. My claim only extends to some annoying OCs and a made-up anime. **-sweatdrop-**

**a/n:** Hmm. I've never been averse to a bit of blatant foreshadowing.

Anyway, I tried to keep this as cliche-free as possible. I know at times things exceeded tedious (yes, I had full paragraphs of Syaoran describing integration, of all things! Shame on me...), but I promise things will perk up next chapter.

I happen to find the whole Sayuri-Lang relationship quite amusing. The irony of it all is probably enough to keep me writing this! I'm not sure if I like what I did with Sakura and Tarou, or with that annoying Yoko girl. But hey, jealousy has never failed before. XD

So, school's starting tomorrow and life is going to get crazy. Bear with me if updates come slower. I've issued a similar warning to readers of _Undercover_, so don't be alarmed if time between updates exceeds a month or so. I'm not going to abandon anything now that I know roughly what I want to do with this...

PS: Now I'm tempted to turn _Matchmaker_ or _Dreaming of You_ into actual fanfics. Damn.

**Next Chapter:** Tomoyo talks to Syaoran about, well, _something_. And when school's out for the holidays, do SxS have _any_ reason to bump into each other unexpectedly? A slight unforeseen catastrophe might be enough to do just that... Find out next chapter, in _Zephyr_!

**Please do review! I'm trying to maintain 30 reviews a chapter. Think you love me enough to do it for me?**

**:D**

**_-Celestiana_**


	6. Zephyr

_**Literary..**_

_**-**_

**Summary: **Sakura is a famous fanfiction author. Syaoran is the best beta she's ever had. They share a world made of the words and tales they weave and write. But they don't know that they know each other...in real life.

_**-**_

**Full Summary: **He promised he'd come back for her. She promised to wait for him. But a misunderstanding creates a giant rift between Sakura and Syaoran, enough to break the powerful friendship they once shared. To escape fate's blows, Sakura seeks solace in fanfiction and soon becomes a famous author on the busy _Fanfiction Corner, _under the alias Sayuri. She's lucky enough to meet Lang, and he becomes her greatest fan, faithful beta, and online buddy/soulmate. Wait until she finds out that "Lang" is really Syaoran, the cause of all her troubles...

**-**

**a/n: **188! You all amaze me, honestly you do! That's the same number of reviews I have for _Once Upon A Time_...and that fic has **13 chapters**! Unbelievable, unbelievable...

I love you people, I honestly do. Thank you so, so, so, so much for your support. **Please** keep it up in the future!

Okay, so the overwhelming majority of you seemed to prefer longer chapters and more infrequent updates. I guess that works for me too **-shrugs-**. I've been insanely busy lately, and I can't promise updates more frequently than this, until May, when all my exams are done. Until then, you'll have to be patient with me. I am trying my very best not to compromise length or quality...

_Also,_ I want to clarify something. I've already addressed this in my other fic, _Star Crossed: Memories_, but not a lot of people read that one. So, I'll make this clear just about now. A **lot** of people have noticed that my descriptions for Sakura don't exactly fit the bill. Alright, I'm aware that in the anime, Sakura's got auburn/brown hair and slightly tan skin, but I'm one of those random people who have the image of the manga characters in their heads before the anime characters. Meaning that when I write, I have the image of Sakura from the manga, where her hair seems to be more red than it is brown (or at least from my perspective? or maybe I just can't tell colours anymore??). Also, I haven't watched the anime in years, so I can't really remember what she looks like there. I've gotten used to writing Sakura with the "fiery red hair" and the "pale white skin", and now, even in the face of a direct contradiction by the anime, I couldn't be bothered changing that image I have of Sakura in my mind. Sorry to any CCS purists out there, but I'm not too keen on changing it. Just imagine that Sakura dyed her hair or something if my explanation seems insufficient to you. :)

Now that I have that out of the way, we can turn our attention to this chapter. I wrote this one for Tomoyo fans. To them, I would like to point out the wonders of writing a story from two different perspectives: you can really capitalize on personal biases and stuff. It's one thing writing about Tomoyo from a supremely irritated Sakura's POV, another to write it from a completely objective Syaoran's POV. You'll see, you'll see...

This is a bit of a quiet chapter, but it makes room for a bit of a bang at the end, as well as a potential for resolution between SxS?

I'll shut up and let you read it, then...

* * *

Chapter Five. Zephyr

-

**Syaoran's POV**

**-**

By the time we reach the park, it's almost pitch black. The sky's dotted with faint pinpricks of stars, the breeze is turning cold and harsh, and Meiling and I are both shivering. We didn't expect it to be this cold and consequently didn't dress as warmly as we should have.

Without a moment's hesitation, Meiling pulls out her cellphone and dials a number rapidly.

"Tomoyo?" she asks, her frustration clearly evident in her voice. "Yeah, hi, it's me. What the hell were you thinking when you told us to swing by the _park_ in this weather? It's freezing cold out here!"

She stops in her paces and makes her way to the side of the sidewalk. I roll my eyes and stand a little beside her, wishing she could start walking again. The wind's blowing harder and harder, and my teeth are starting to chatter.

"Well, obviously the cold's bothering me!" Meiling snaps. "Otherwise I wouldn't bother calling, now would I?"

I snort. Yeah, Meiling can be quite amusing when she's pissed off. Like now. I feel a bit bad for Tomoyo on the other end. I'd feel worse if I didn't remember that it's because of Tomoyo I'm standing out here in the cold freezing my ass off.

"A _café_?" Meiling asks incredulously.

I nudge her.

"Don't be too picky," I mutter hoarsely. "It'll be warm in there at least."

Meiling glances at me exasperatedly, but shrugs at the same time.

"Okay sure," she says. "We'll be there in about ten minutes."

She hangs up and stuffs her phone into her pocket before dragging me off along the sidewalk.

"Where are we going, by the way?" I ask her, just out of curiosity.

Meiling doesn't even slow down to answer; as a matter of fact, she speeds up. I don't mind, since at least we're _moving_ now, and by extension, we're keeping warm.

"There's this new European café that opened here," she explains to me, and I'm surprised to hear the quavering in her voice too (shit, it must be _freezing_ then!). "Tomoyo says it's really good."

"Whatever," I shrug and we continue to walk (jog, rather) in silence. Truth be told, I really don't care whether this café serves up raw cockroaches in espresso cups; all I want right now is a roof over my head. Oh, and if Tomoyo could tell me what it was she wanted to say, that would be great too. Ease things up on the suspense factor, you know...

Anyway, the temperature drops at an alarming pace as we continue to walk. The streets are deserted right now, which is really weird, considering it's Tomoeda, and no one's indoors until after nine when all the little shops close (because it's December and sales are apparently really great right now. But what do I know about these things? Nothing, that's what). I'm so wrapped up inside myself that it takes me a good ten seconds to realize that there are snowflakes clinging to my eyelashes and melting on the tip of my nose.

"It's snowing!" I exclaim, stopping in my tracks and glancing up at the inky black sky.

Sure enough, faint specks of powdery white snow are falling slowly onto the ground, disappearing onto the hard concrete and soft grass upon contact.

Meiling pauses, staring first at the sky, then at the ground, and then at me.

"So?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "It's December, after all."

"Yes, but -" I cut myself off. I can't explain the weird feeling inside me. It's as if something's _definitely_ going to go wrong and I don't know what exactly.

There's something strange going on with the weather. I know it.

"Does it _usually_ snow at this time of year?" I can't help but ask.

Meiling rolls her eyes and keeps on walking.

"We'll freeze over if we don't get a move on," she calls back to me.

I glance up at the sky uncertainly before sighing and dashing after her.

Maybe she's right.

Seven years of training in Hong Kong _have_ made me jumpy.

* * *

We reach the café fifteen minutes later. It's on a busier street than the one we live on. On the corner of the road is a small European-style building, with smoke coming out of a brick chimney and the words _Europa Café_ emblazoned on the awning. It seems really out of place in this small Japanese town, but from what I can see, the place is _crowded_.

Well, I can't exactly blame the owners for being successful. Green tea is great, but I guess it can't hold up to cappucinos, lattés, or gourmet espresso. Although I never expected the crowd here in Tomoeda to enjoy such – well – _foreign_ flavours. Things are changing around here, in ways I never really expected. Soon, it'll almost be like being back in Hong Kong, where you hear English almost as often as Cantonese. _Weird_.

Meiling opens the door and walks inside, exclaiming at the warmth. I take a last second to glance at the snow falling gently from the sky before I enter the small café, gasping as feeling returns to my numbed fingers and toes.

The place is quite nice, actually. The whole room smells of roasted coffee (a scent I've come to _adore_ lately) and the menu is handwritten on a blackboard suspended from the wooden ceiling. The lighting is dim and yellow, the tables are small and round. We see Tomoyo and Eriol perched on the narrow, high-legged wooden stools around a table near the back corner, by the fireplace. They spot us and Tomoyo waves.

"Nice place," Meiling says, seating herself on the empty stool beside Eriol. Leaving me to sit beside Tomoyo, which I do, rather mechanically.

"It's nice," Tomoyo says, somewhat redundantly. "The prices are a bit high, but it's really good."

"Have you ordered anything yet?" Meiling asks, rubbing her hands together wryly.

Eriol shakes his head, eyes strangely shadowed behind his thin spectacles.

"We were waiting for you to arrive," he explains. "It's crowded in here, and I only want to wait in that line once."

Meiling's eyebrows shoot up. "You're buying?" she asks sharply.

Eriol shrugs.

"If you want me to," he says offhandedly.

Meiling grins.

"You can buy for Tomoyo if you want," she suggests, a wicked grin spreading over her face. "But Syaoran and I can pay for ourselves. Right, Syaoran?"

"Sure," I answer, feeling slightly out-of-place. It's obvious the three of them go out together all the time and know everything about each other. Whereas I only feel truly comfortable around Meiling. Tomoyo I can stand at times and Eriol...I don't know, he's always seemed kind of creepy to me. Even last time, when we were fifth-graders, he ended up turning into Eli Moon and then kept calling me these annoying nicknames. (And trust me, it only gets weirder when someone your age insists on calling you "my cute little descendant"...)

"I'll go wait in line then," Eriol offers, getting up. "Meiling, Syaoran, what do you want?"

Meiling ponders for a moment before jumping up too.

"I'll wait in line with you," she offers. "I can't decide, but I can order for Syaoran too. How's that?"

"Fine," Eriol and I chorus.

Without further ado, Eriol and Meiling disappear into the crowded line. I glance at the crowd, and at the single person working behind the counter. It's a good twenty-minute wait. The coffee here had better be good.

My attention is diverted when I realize that Tomoyo and I are sitting next to each other. Alone. Tomoyo's kind of blanked out, though. Her chin is in her hands and she's gazing thoughtfully at the centre of the table. With her sleek black hair pulled into a high ponytail and round porcelain face, she looks a bit like a doll. The soft pastel green dress she's wearing right now only emphasizes that effect...

I clear my throat, feeling awkward.

"Weird weather we're having," I offer, before cringing on the inside. I read about the lamest conversation-starters and then laugh at them. And now what am I doing? Using the dryest form of small-talk to initiate a conversation. I'm _hopeless_.

Tomoyo doesn't seem to hear me; her violet eyes are somewhat slack as she continues staring at the centre of the table. I can see the flickering light from the fireplace casting strange dancing orange patterns on her white face. Bit of an eerie effect. Reminds of that time in _Dreaming of You_, when Aisha and Kaito confront each other in this really intense chapter, where Kaito discovers that the concubine he toyed with was really the most powerful being in the land and his most dangerous enemy – wait, I'm going on a tangent here. No thinking about fanfiction right now.

"It's like the first day of fifth grade," Tomoyo says, almost dreamily. I stare at her in confusion. She raises her eyes to meet mine. "When the entire town was snowed in?"

I'm taken aback. It seems incredible to remember everything that happened the last time I was here. I came to find the Clow Cards, but Sakura was already the Cardcaptor. And all of our misadventures, trying to save Tomeoda and capture all the Cards. In between the Last Judgment, the formation of the Sakura Cards and Eriol turning into Eli Moon... Looking back, it seems like it was something out of someone else's life. Not my own.

"I forgot about that," I confess. "It seems so long ago."

"We were all so different," Tomoyo muses, her voice still retaining that dreamlike quality. I get the feeling that she's not looking at me, even though her eyes are fixed on mine.

"Yeah," I agree. Tomoyo was so much more hyper, Meiling was jealous, Eriol was just plain creepy, _I_ was naive and immature, and Sakura...

"She's a completely different person now," Tomoyo says quietly, almost as if in answer to my particular line of thought.

I glance at her, disconcerted.

"Who?" I ask.

"Who else?" Tomoyo returns, giving me a mysterious smile. "Sakura."

"Oh." I fall silent, wondering if Tomoyo and I would have to spend the rest of our time reminiscing about the "good old days" before Eriol and Meiling show up with our coffees. It'd be a bittersweet experience, because those days were fun, yes, but they also seems to represent everything that we've lost. Something about ourselves that changed as we grew older.

"She shut me out," Tomoyo speaks unexpectedly, and my attention diverts to her. "I talk to her, yes. But it's as though she isn't really there."

"What do you mean?" I ask, wondering why Tomoyo just can't come around full circle and say what she has to say.

Tomoyo sighs and shakes her head with eyes closed. When she opens them, her eyes seem more lucid.

"Syaoran, let me explain one thing very clearly to you," she says to me in measured tones. "Sakura-chan and I are related to each other. My mother and her mother were cousins, and they loved each other like sisters. But my mother couldn't stand it when Sakura's mother married her father. It was – it was as though my mother had lost a part of herself when Sakura's mother got married, because they were so close to each other."

I nod blankly, although I can't imagine what this has to do with anything.

"That's the reason Okaa-san made me grow out my hair," Tomoyo says without emphasis, and her eyes are oddly bright. "It's because Nadeshiko-san – Sakura's mother – used to have long hair, and maybe by seeing me – it reminded my mother of Sakura's mother, and made her feel happier."

"Okay," I comment, not really knowing what to say. Why's Tomoyo giving me her entire family history all of a sudden?

"That's sort of like what happened to Sakura-chan and I," Tomoyo says and my ears perk up. "We grew up like sisters almost – except, we didn't really _know_ we were related. We shared everything with each other. I found Sakura to be the most kawaii and fascinating girl I ever met and I supported her in every way I could, because – well – being around her made me happier than I was anywhere else. And she never kept any secrets from me. Even when she became the Cardcaptor, she told me and allowed me to design her costumes and videotape her and everything..."

"I know," I say wryly, although I'm somewhat intrigued.

"At times, I knew there was no one on this planet who I cared for more than Sakura-chan," Tomoyo continues, and now I'm starting to feel _very_ awkward. "Sometimes, I even fancied that I _loved_ her -"

I burst out coughing, convinced I've heard her incorrectly.

"Loved?" I ask carefully, raising my eyebrows.

She nods slowly.

"Sometimes, I still think I do," she says wistfully, and I'm lost right now. I feel so uncomfortable, I don't even know _what_ to do... "Well, obviously not in that way anymore, but still...I feel a very special bond with her. It's not as strong as it was years ago. Now, back then, I used to dream about us, you know? It might have been disturbing to some, but I was so naive and Sakura-chan was so innocent and pure, and we were just kids after all..."

Kami-sama, she's lost me.

"But then someone got in my way," Tomoyo says, with a small smile.

"Yukito-san," I say, nodding a little.

To my surprise, she laughs a little and shakes her head.

"No," she says. "You, Syaoran."

I blink several times, trying to register Tomoyo's words.

"Me?" I ask, eventually.

"Yes," Tomoyo nods, and there's nothing but genuine happiness in her eyes. No jealousy or resentment or...or confusion, for that matter! She's so sure of herself, even though it's completely wrong! How did I get in her way? I didn't even _know_ she had a thing for Sakura back then! I was Sakura's rival, not Tomoyo's! And when the rivalry ended, I just became _good friends_ with Sakura. I liked her _as a friend_. I wasn't in love with her like Tomoyo said she was...

...Was I?

"How?" I ask, desperately avoiding this particular train of thought. "How'd I get in your way, Tomoyo?"

A knowing smile creeps onto her face.

"You came and challenged Sakura-chan for possession of the Cards – or something to that effect," she explains. "You threatened her, you competed with her, you dismissed her as inferior...but it was Sakura-chan's greatness that she saw past all that and became friends with you. Because you taught her how to be determined and how to work hard... You showed her so many new things, that even I couldn't show her, Syaoran-kun, and your friendship grew stronger. So strong that I became surer and surer that Sakura would do anything for you. She valued you above all her other friends, Syaoran-kun."

Hearing this coming from Tomoyo is like a stab to the heart. Tomoyo's sense of perception is incredibly keen. I get the feeling she knows more about Sakura's feelings than Sakura herself does! Whenever she says something about Sakura, it's _always_ right.

Which makes me even more confused, because what she's just said is so wrong...

"But – you can't be right," I stammer, feeling like the information doesn't add up. "Sakura couldn't have valued me so much. It's obvious she didn't miss me all these years. When I saw her after coming back from Hong Kong, it was as though she _hated_ me. She still does hate me."

"You're wrong," Tomoyo says softly, her eyes growing pained. "You weren't there to see her, how she got by after you left. When she came back from the airport the day you left, I went to see her. To this day, I've never seen her eyes look so empty."

Tomoyo's big eyes are boring right into mine and I'm feeling uncomfortable, remembering the happy little Sakura I used to know and how much I want her back again...

"But I had no choice," I defend myself, rather aimlessly. "I was only ten years old, and my mother needed me to return back home. Seven years is a long time, I know, but I'm back now! And I came back just for -"

I don't let myself finish. I hate giving so much of myself away to _anyone_. Especially someone like Tomoyo, who doesn't even need words to understand someone.

"I know you did," Tomoyo says softly, and a shadow passes over her face. So that I could appreciate the slight weariness around her eyes and mouth, and understand the unspoken burden that Tomoyo felt every time she saw Sakura unhappy. I could recognize that weight in her chest, because I can feel it too. I've been feeling it all this time. A heavy, twisting, sickening ache inside me, that's just longing for the friend I once valued above all others.

"She waited for you too, you know," Tomoyo continues offhandedly, and my attention snaps to her with an intensity that disturbs me. "The day after you left, she went on, doing things the way she usually did. She practiced Card-Capturing and I'd videotape her and later we'd sit and watch the videos I made. Then she went on with her cheerleading and her running. Even in school, everything stayed the same. To anyone who didn't know her, she was still the same Sakura-chan that we all knew and loved. Still happy. Still carefree. Still innocent..."

She blinks and looks away. I'm transfixed to her, hanging on to her every word as though it's a lifeline. I've never heard about what happened here after I left. Oh, I've imagined it, but somehow, I never knew...I never even thought of asking...

"But something changed?" I asked hesitantly, already seeing the young Sakura's vibrant smile and contrasting pained eyes in my mind.

"She missed you," Tomoyo answers simply. "More than words could say. But she was a strong girl and she didn't let anyone know that anything had changed. She wrote to you as often as she could, and whenever she got a response from you, it was as though she really was the happiest girl on the planet. And years passed by, and we all grew older. Sakura put the Cards away into a drawer and pulled out her math textbooks instead. Instead of playing dress-up, we went to movies and shopped at malls. The girls quit cheerleading when high school started and joined the track team in its place."

"Did you drift apart over time, then?" I ask, frowning. Wondering more than ever about what exactly happened that could transform Sakura so drastically, and in such a short span of time.

"No," Tomoyo says, shaking her head. "We changed slowly, yes, but we were still the same. Sakura was still so much fun to be around, even though she wasn't getting any letters from you – she understood that you were busy, it didn't hurt her as much anymore," she adds hastily, obviously reading a hitch in my expression. "The point is, Syaoran-kun, that even though she seems really different now, up until not very long ago, Sakura-chan was essentially the same as she was when she was younger. Fujitaka-san and Touya-san, Kero-chan, everyone she came into contact with at school, and especially you...we were all the cornerstones of her world."

"But when did things start changing?" I ask, wondering when my mind would stop spinning and start putting things together. But there were so many questions to ask, so many questions left unanswered...

"Last summer," Tomoyo replies slowly and thoughtfully, as though unsure of herself even. "I can't put a specific date to it. But I do know one thing: the Sakura at the end of the tenth grade was very different from the Sakura at the beginning of the eleventh."

I frown.

"Really?" I ask.

Tomoyo nods.

"Yes," she replies, and there's hesitation in her voice. I get the feeling that she's never confessed this to anyone else before. The fact that she's willing to share this most private of suspicions flatters me a little.

"How was she different?" I press, wanting to know even more. "Was she a lot like she is now?"

Tomoyo shakes her head.

"Not quite," she tells me slowly, as she searches for the right words. "That summer started off like any other one. We saw each other every day, went to the malls, did our homework early in the vacation so we could relax longer..."

"Then?" I prompt her, anticipating an alteration in her narrative.

Tomoyo sighs.

"Then one day, there was a summer festival, as usual," she continues. "We made plans to go there with Chiharu and Yamazaki. But that afternoon, Sakura didn't show up. We waited for hours but she didn't come. So we went on without her. And she never turned up."

I open my mouth to make a comment, but Tomoyo continues on, cutting off any chance I have to interrupt.

"That surprised me a lot," she elaborates, her fingers clasping and unclasping. "It was so unlike Sakura-chan to be so...irresponsible. It was almost rude of her. I wondered at once what was wrong with her. I immediately assumed she was sick, because the Sakura I knew wouldn't miss a festival with us for no good reason. But she didn't call me that day, or the next, or the day after that, even. A full week went by before I even heard from her."

_That's so rude of her_, I think to myself, and despite my distaste of Sakura's neglecting treatment of Tomoyo, my curiosity's piqued more than ever. What happened that day, to cause such an abrupt change in Sakura's behaviour?

"She phoned me to tell me that she had been feeling sick the week before," Tomoyo says. "And that her family had made sudden plans to visit Tokyo for the rest of the summer."

"Why?" I ask, feeling oddly unsettled for some reason. My own interest in Tomoyo's words is startling me. How long have I been trying to ignore Sakura since I came here? And how much do I care about why she's changed, really? More than I care to admit, that's for sure.

"I still have no idea," Tomoyo confesses with a shrug and a small smile. "She, her brother and her father went to Tokyo for six weeks, and she even missed the first day of school."

I'm staring at Tomoyo, who has this somewhat entranced look on her face as she describes the events to me with painstakingly crafted details.

"When she came back, I could barely recognize her," Tomoyo continues softly. "Oh, she looked more or less the same. But her attitude had changed completely. She wasn't as harsh as she is right now. Not just then. But she seemed quieter, remoter – a shadow of her old self. She smiled little and talked even less. Before long, she withdrew into herself altogether."

Tomoyo's words are so clear, I can see vivid images of Sakura's transformation going through my head. The laughing, smiling, beautiful little girl I remember from my memories, waving at Tomoyo at the end of the tenth grade. That same girl walking into school on the second day, suddenly grim and austere, with her sparkling eyes dark and hardened, the laughter and youth gone from her face. Her gradual recession into herself, like a tortoise withdrawing into its shell...

"Then small things started happening," Tomoyo tells me, observing the minute expression changes on my face. "Sakura-chan's attitude began shifting majorly. At the beginning of the year, she seemed depressed and sad, almost. Then, a few months later, something happened and she changed into what she is right now."

"What happened?" I interrupt urgently, feeling the need to know overwhelm me. I don't know why, but there's this most curious feeling within me. As though if I find out what exactly happened to Sakura to make her change so much, maybe I can reverse it and get my friend back. Even if the whole idea seems fanciful even to a five-year-old...

"I honestly don't know," Tomoyo admits, biting her lip. "But whatever it was, it must have been big. Sakura-chan has never told anyone what it is. I asked Yukito-san about it, and he doesn't know about it, even!"

I can feel the hurt coming from Tomoyo in waves. Obviously, though she understands Sakura's need for privacy, she feels hurt that her dearest – _friend_ – shut her out of her life so completely, without warning. I can empathize with her, because I feel the exact same way. The only difference is, I'm not quite so forgiving.

But should I? Forgive her, that is? Forgive her for shutting me out and forgetting about her promise to me? Forgive her for going out with another guy when she told me she'd wait for me?

"All I know is that she disappeared without a word for a week," Tomoyo says, and I'm only half-paying attention, because part of my concentration is drawn to my inner dilemmas. "When she came back, she seemed shattered, but only I could see it. The rest could only see her apathy, her frustration, and her distance from the rest of us. Some mistook it for ego, but that's not Sakura-chan's problem. She's completely devoted to something, and I don't know what. Something's possessed her to isolate herself completely, spend every moment of her life studying for school, and even get a job at the clinic."

"Before she broke her ankle, she was rarely ever at home," I say slowly, feeling a lightbulb flicker vaguely in my brain.

"Yes," Tomoyo says sadly. "Whatever happened to Sakura-chan, I know that she doesn't deserve it."

There's a blank pause as Tomoyo's amethyst eyes meet mine knowingly.

"That's all I wanted to tell you," she says, half-apologetically. "About Sakura."

"Why?" I ask her, before I can stop myself.

"Why what?" Tomoyo's taken off guard by my question.

"Why – did you want to talk to me about her?" I ask, in a somewhat defeated voice. My hand runs through my hair, a habit I have when I'm nervous or perplexed. Now, I think I'm a bit of both. Nervous, and perplexed. And I don't even know why, anymore.

"Because you have a right to know," Tomoyo answers softly.

Her answer's so vague and unsettling, I want her to elaborate. But just as I open my mouth, just as the words are forming on my tongue, a large mug of brown foamy _something_ lands on the table with a decisive _clunk_.

"Here you go!" Meiling chirps in my ears, causing me to wince visibly. "I'm not exactly sure _what_ it is, but it's _delicious_!"

She motions to an identical mug in her own hand, which she sets on the table beside me.

"Thanks," I mutter, feeling my ears turn red with frustration. I turn to face Tomoyo, hoping to talk to her some more, but then Eriol appears out of nowhere and sidles in beside her. She turns to face him, and suddenly, the chance disappears for good.

-

**Sakura's POV**

-

My eyes wander over to the clock on the classroom wall. It's ticking away idly, with no rush or care in the world. The minute hand seems frozen in place, neither moving forward nor backward. Around it, the second hand moves leisurely, at its own erratic pace. At times, I swear it slows down whenever I glance at it.

_Focus, Sakura_...

I glance back at the math test sitting on my desk. I've got one more question to solve, and another half hour to go before I can leave the room. Oh, I'm sure Arai-sensei will allow me to leave early if I ask him really nicely, but somehow...I just couldn't be bothered.

Exhaling slowly, I pick up my pencil and read the last question on the five-page long test.

_Find the indefinite integral of _x_ over_ x-7.

I blink, feeling a small grin playing over my face.

_Oh, come on_, I think to myself, beginning to scribble away. That was the exact same question in the homework! I remember the feelings of elation and brilliance privately burning away within me as I figured out how to solve it over the weekend.

Oh, and after helping _Lang_ of all people with the _exact same question_, I don't think I'll _ever_ forget how to solve it...

After scribbling away for a good minute, I scrawl down my final answer of _x+ln (x-7)+c_ and throw my pencil down onto the desk triumphantly. Final test of this year, _done_. Now I've got – I glance at the clock again – twenty five minutes to kill before I can go to the clinic, work the last shift of the year (and it's only two hours long too!) and then _finally_ go home.

But...in the meantime...

How the hell am I supposed to kill twenty five minutes here?

I ruffle through my test, scanning my answers carefully. Because I'm utterly bored, I decide to rewrite my solution for question 14c since it's a bit messy.

Erasing...rewriting...done.

I glance at the clock again.

Yay. That took me about a minute. Twenty four more minutes to go.

I continue looking through my test. I can't see any part where I might have made a mistake, but then again, I feel kind of brain-dead. But still confident. So, whatever.

When I'm convinced that years must have passed, I peek at the merciless classroom clock again.

Twenty minutes left.

I bury my head in my arms, suppressing the urge to scream out loud or something. The sheer boredom of it all is killing me slowly, I know it...

"Is everything alright, Kinomoto-san?" Arai-sensei asks suddenly.

I jump and raise my head hastily to meet his puzzled eyes.

"H-Hai," I stutter, feeling my face go beet red as I pick up my test once more and examine it busily. What to do, what to do...?

I pick up my pencil again and start drawing boxes around my answers so that they stand out, just because I really have nothing better to do.

Naptime, I guess?

I rest my face on the palm of my hand and lower my head just slightly, so that no one can tell that I've got my eyes closed.

_How to kill time when you're bored?_ I wonder to myself, before it hits me. I randomly begin to think of _Matchmaker_: of what I've written so far, of what I want to do with the plot, of what I need to write next...

Effortlessly, the narrative takes itself up in my mind, smoother than I can ever write it. It's always this one scene, I find, this _one_ scene that I can focus all my energy around. So far, _Matchmaker_ is built around these disconnected, vivid scenes that inspire some sort of creative output on my part. The rest of the plot is just me scrambling for fillers in between these flashes and moments that I've been dwelling on.

Like, the moment that prompted the writing of _Matchmaker_ altogether? Why, Aisha's reaction to the results of her matchmaker quiz, of course. And the next moment I _need_ to write before I lose my flow altogether?

When Kaito meets Aisha _properly_...

My mind drifts off and I allow myself to write the story in my mind...

" _Kaito frowned as he entered the building, the temperature rising by the minute. He glanced back at the sky through the revolving glass doors. It was still quite dim, the sun hadn't quite risen fully yet. He made his way to the elevators, noting that the atrium was deserted at this ungodly hour._

If it hadn't been for the conference tomorrow, even I wouldn't be here_, he thought to himself as the elevator doors slid shut. But, as the company's CEO, he had certain responsibilities to fulfill, especially as they were meeting with several other companies and representatives the next day, to present a most unorthodox proposal. He needed to make sure he had all the facts and data on hand, just in case his presenters messed up._

_...Yes, trust was not a big factor in Murakami Kaito's life. Nor was genuine interest in the lives of anyone other than himself and his immediate family. Apart from his secretary, he didn't even remember the names of his staff...except for some of the older men on the C level. He also had a horrible memory for faces, sometimes mixing up one employee with another's name in his mind. _

_The only thing Kaito could be trusted to remember without fail was the address of his Trump Tower penthouse apartment, and the name of the guy he rented it out with. Originally, he and his girlfriend had moved into it together, but the apartment grew too spacious after they broke up and she moved out. _

_The doors slid open on the top floor of the tall building, and Kaito walked out. He frowned again, fanning himself as sweat beaded on his forehead. It was unforgivably hot in this building. For a morning in May, the temperature was unusually warm. It was swelteringly hot, especially on the upper floors, and Kaito felt his nerves grate. There was no one in the building to yell at, to jump start the goddamned air conditioning or something..._

_The faint sound of music caught Kaito's ears, and he stiffened._

_Music..._

_Who the hell was listening to music at five in the morning?_

_He shook his head and continued to his office, but if anything, he could hear the music growing louder. As though he was getting closer to it._

Unbelievable_, Kaito thought to himself, rolling his eyes a little. _There's someone in the office right now. With the music up at full blast.

_Because he was uncomfortably warm already, and because he needed another living human being to vent his anger upon, he turned on his heel and followed his ears. The music grew louder as he made his way to the end of the hallway and, his eyes widened, down a staircase to the level below his._

_Finally, his eyes caught a door that was slightly ajar, and he could almost see the waves of loud sound emanating from it. He gritted his teeth and pushed the door open slightly, preparing to yell at whoever was in there..._

_...but the complaint never made it to his lips, because the scene in the room had frozen him to the spot completely._

_The office looked as though it had been hit by a hurricane. Stacks of files, papers, and empty coffee cups littered the three desks erratically. Two PCs were on and running. The printer was spitting out pages and pages of – _stuff_ – and even the fax machine was beeping away. Kaito vaguely noticed the stereo blasting the loud music on full volume, before his attention was drawn to something else._

_Some_one_ else, more exactly. A tall, slender, young woman, who was leaning back on her swivel chair and singing softly along with the song. She seemed oblivious to the chaos surrounding her, or perhaps she was simply used to it. He watched from his position, captivated, as she swung from one PC to another, from the fax machine to the printer, collecting papers here and filing them there, all while singing the same provocative lyrics under her breath._

_He watched as she dug through the mess on her desk, found a sheet of paper and stood up. Turning on her heel, she walked over to the photocopier by the window and methodically removed another sheet from the machine. She opened the window, fanning herself in the breeze and, frowning, went over to change the song playing on the stereo._

_Kaito's jaw dropped slightly as she sat back down, her skirt riding up a little as she crossed her slim white legs. She wasn't wearing tights either, Kaito realized, glancing at the woman's bare feet. A few feet away from her desk was a pair of black stiletto heels, evidently kicked off with no great regret..._

_He looked away politely as she leaned over her desk to grab the large cup of coffee sitting on the other end. As she leaned back in her chair again, taking a deep swig of the strong black liquid, he noticed that her satiny green blouse was undone at the top, revealing an expanse of white skin that he'd have preferred not to see – or maybe he did prefer to see? - at that moment._

_Then he remembered the heat, and concluded that the woman's slightly undone attire could be attributed to the high room temperatures..._

_She was singing again, and Kaito found himself distracted as she replaced her mug on the desk and shook her head, her long waves of black hair flowing to her elbows. She ran her fingers through it, brushing it out of her face and behind her shoulders. She scanned her desk, evidently looking for an elastic or a clip or something. Suddenly, she broke into a yawn and she stretched, her blouse riding up an inch or two, so that he could see a trim waist punctuated by a rather pretty navel, he thought -_

"_Excuse me," he said suddenly, before he could let his mind run away with him some more. "Would you mind turning the volume down, please?"_

_The woman let out a shriek, jumping to her feet and clasping her hands together._

"_Mr. Murakami!" she said breathlessly, her face turning an alarming shade of red. "Um – sorry about that – I'll just – um -"_

_And within the blink of an eye, she had crossed over to the stereo, turned it off, and returned to her spot behind her desk._

"_Thank you," Kaito said stiffly and somewhat awkwardly. He didn't know what else to say to the woman. Oh, he knew he had seen her before at meetings. But he couldn't remember her name, or her position, or _anything_, for that matter..._

"_I'm so sorry to bother you, sir," she spoke quickly, twin patches of red still prominent on her cheeks. "It's just – I honestly thought there was no one here at this time and -"_

"_It's okay," Kaito said, waving the woman's apologies aside. "It's quite early, after all."_

"_Too early," he heard her mutter, and he gave her a sharp glance. Her gaze fell to the ground._

"_What are you doing here at five in the morning?" he asked, before he could stop himself._

_She gave him a funny look._

"_Getting all the material ready," she explained, her eyes falling to the undone button on her blouse and her fingers hastily doing it up as discreetly as possible. "Um – I'm presenting at the conference tomorrow and Carson still hasn't forwarded me all of the department's research -"_

"_Carson?" Kaito asked, confused._

"_Marketing executive," the woman supplemented, running a hand through her luxurious black hair. "I gave him strict orders to submit all the survey results a week ago, but then he reported that there were so many delays in obtaining all the necessary data, so now I have to prepare a lot of it last-minute -"_

"_You're Chief of Marketing, right?" Kaito cut across, finally remembering the woman's position in his company with a sigh of relief._

_The woman looked surprised and – did Kaito imagine – somewhat flattered._

"_Right," she said. "For a little over a year."_

"_Ah," was all Kaito chose to say. He couldn't say much else. How could he admit to himself that, until this day, he'd never even _noticed_ this very young and very attractive woman in his office? Where did she come from, again? When did he promote her? How on earth could he have paid so little attention to a woman who looked as sexy as her??_

_He was spared further comment as the phone on the woman's desk began to ring._

_She glanced at him apologetically._

"_Excuse me," she said hastily, before glancing at the display screen and picking the receiver._

"_Tell me you have good news, Carson," she said immediately, her voice changing from startled to commanding. _

She doesn't waste time, either,_ Kaito thought to himself wryly, as the woman seated herself in her chair and drummed her fingers against the wooden desk. Deciding that it was time to leave, he backed away silently from her door._

_As he turned to leave, he heard her voice rise._

"_Of course I'd be awake at this hour, I've been sitting in my office waiting for your papers for the last four hours!"_

_He suddenly realized that he didn't even know her name..._ "

"Time up. Pencils down," Arai-sensei announces, cutting across my train of thought. I stir and open my eyes. Around me, students are muttering mutinously as they drop their pencils reluctantly and pack up their stuff slowly.

"Please remain seated until _after_ I've collected everyone's tests," Arai-sensei says sternly, and everyone's still. He comes around, slowly picking up everyone's papers and arranging them into a neat pile.

"How'd it go?" he asks me as he picks up my test. "I caught you sleeping during the last half hour. Was it really that easy?"

I smile and shake my head.

"Most of it was straight out of the review, Arai-sensei," I tell him.

"I gather you liked that last question then?" he asks me with a wink.

I laugh.

"Of course," I assure him as he moves on behind me. I see Syaoran stiffen somewhat in front of me, but I don't pay any further attention. All I can think of is the feeling of finally being free. Now, I just have to go to the clinic, file papers for another two hours, pick up Dad's new medicine, and then I'm free to go home and write the next chapter of _Matchmaker_, or talk to Lang, or maybe even spend the evening with Touya or Tarou or Dad or someone...

"Okay. You're free to go now," Arai-sensei says as he dumps the pile of tests onto his desk.

I grin as I pick up my nearly-empty bag and swing it effortlessly over my shoulders. It's been ages since I've been able to _walk_ properly, and now that the cast is off, I'm going to enjoy walking everywhere I can go. Maybe I'll take the long way home from the clinic. It's an especially beautiful day today, after all...

* * *

Did I just say it was a beautiful day?

Hm.

It's _gorgeous_.

I can see the sky from the reception desk of the clinic. Oh, it's this beautiful blue colour, and the sun's bright, and the clouds are beautifully fluffy and white...

"Kinomoto-san."

I glance up to see my supervisor smiling at me slightly.

"You can leave now," she says to me quietly. "I think you could do with a little fresh air yourself."

"But -" I stutter, seeing that it's only four in the afternoon, "don't you need help or anything?"

She shrugs and waves it off.

"I'll manage," she tells me. "You just go on home. I'll see you next year, in January, hm?"

"Hai," I say with a smile. "Arigato, Nagawa-san!"

And I gather my backpack and my jacket, and exit the clinic as gracefully and controlledly as I can. Once I'm out of sight, however, I slow down my paces and turn down a longcut that's exceptionally gorgeous at this time of year. I drink in the sight of the gnarled brown trees coated with faint white powder and frost, against the clear blue sky.

_There's something to be said about Tomoeda_, I think to myself. _Even if it isn't the most advanced city, or the most resourceful for Dad's treatment...it's home..._

I think of the years to come. Dad will be going for six months of treatment in Tokyo starting in March. Touya will be joining him there in June, after my finals are over. And then, in August, I'll be leaving to go halfway across the world to study in America, of all places.

It still hasn't sunk in yet, that I'll be living so far away from home, among complete strangers, in a relatively short amount of time.

It's unbelievable.

To think that in about six months' time, Touya, Dad, and I will have left Tomoeda. This tiny town, where we all grew up in. This small town, with its beautiful scenery and even more beautiful memories...

But life calls, I think to myself philosophically. Eriol spent a lot of his life in England, and is probably going back there next year. Tomoyo might join him there, as Sonomi-san is hell bent on sending her to Oxford or Cambridge. Even Tarou's leaving Tomoeda, for Tokyo, he said. Why should I be left behind?

My thoughts are abruptly stilled as I stop in my tracks. I'm walking by the park, right beside the wall that fences it in now. It's deserted, as usual.

But that's not what's bugging me.

What's bugging me is the series of shivers setting off alarms in every nerve of my body.

It's as though...as though I sense something. Something powerful.

And the familiarity of the situation alarms me. Because the last time I sensed something this powerful, I was ten years old and still capturing Cards.

I'm not ten years old anymore. And the Cards are all mine.

So what is this weird presence I feel?

I glance around myself. Everything's still.

Too still.

_Syaoran?_ I think to myself, wondering if he's training and I'm just sensing his power or something. Or maybe it's Yue resurfacing...but Yukito hasn't transformed in years, not since he gave up some of his powers to heal Touya...

_It could be anyone!_ I tell myself firmly. _Eriol, Nakuru, Kaho-san, Kero even!_

I'm still trying to convince myself that nothing's wrong when I sense the power increase exponentially.

My eyes open wide and I gasp as something materializes before me.

Then, I feel myself being blasted six feet into the air and slammed painfully against the wooden park wall.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Nope, don't own CCS at all. That's property of CLAMP, who're much better storytellers than little I...

**a/n:** Dun dun dunnnn! And that is where I leave you for today!

The chapter's a bit shorter than the others, but it's still fairly long, so you shouldn't complain. I think...

I hope the character revelations given to Sakura and Tomoyo were appreciated a bit.

My next mission is to get chapter 9 of _Undercover_ posted. I only started writing that yesterday, and I foresee very little free time in the near future, so hold on for that one. For _Literary_, I know where I want to go with this now (and the majority of you lot should be able to figure it out too, because it's not exactly difficult **-sigh-**). It's my mission to see SxS at least try _get along_ with each other in the near future. Hmm...

**Next Chapter:** Sakura scrambles to her feet and tries to figure things out. Who's on her side and what is she up against, exactly? Find out next chapter, in _Chaos_!

**Please do review! I'm trying to maintain 30 reviews a chapter. Think you love me enough to do it for me?**

**:D**

**_-Celestiana_**


	7. Chaos

_**Literary..**_

_**-**_

**Summary: **Sakura is a famous fanfiction author. Syaoran is the best beta she's ever had. They share a world made of the words and tales they weave and write. But they don't know that they know each other...in real life.

_**-**_

**Full Summary: **He promised he'd come back for her. She promised to wait for him. But a misunderstanding creates a giant rift between Sakura and Syaoran, enough to break the powerful friendship they once shared. To escape fate's blows, Sakura seeks solace in fanfiction and soon becomes a famous author on the busy _Fanfiction Corner, _under the alias Sayuri. She's lucky enough to meet Lang, and he becomes her greatest fan, faithful beta, and online buddy/soulmate. Wait until she finds out that "Lang" is really Syaoran, the cause of all her troubles...

**-**

**a/n: **244! Ah, I love you all. I really do. Keep it up, and I just may update before the new year... **-smile-**

This one's a bit short, but honestly, I would've gone emo if I made this any longer. I like to think of this as the fireworks!part of the story...which means things will slowly start to mend from the next chapter. Yup!

Read on!

* * *

Chapter Six. Chaos

-

**Sakura's POV**

-

For a moment, everything's black and spinning. My head whirls and pounds, my ribs feel crushed and useless against the impact, and my legs crack painfully as I land on the ground with a resounding _thump_.

The world comes to a momentary standstill as I fight for that first breath, trying to force some air into my squashed lungs. Slowly. Tenderly.

The pain sets in alarmingly quickly. I let out a gasp as something sharp pierces my side. It's like those stitches I get when I jump a hurdle too quickly, or run too fast without breathing properly, except this is a thousand times worse. _Oh_...

I'm jolted back to my senses when I hear something crunch in front of me. The power radiating off of it in waves is incredibly strong. I can't believe just how strong this thing is -

_Get up, Sakura_.

I try to open my eyes first, astonished at how much of an effort it is to just lift my eyelids. There's a bright light in front of me, too bright, and I shut them immediately. All I can see is red, from the light seeping through my scrunched-up eyes.

_Get up_.

I try to open them again. Against the light I see a dim outline of a girl, about my age. She's a bit taller than me, hand on her hip thrust out defiantly. Her entire posture speaks of a challenge. Her chin is tilted upward arrogantly and I fancy a slight smirk on her face. Her hair's long, falling to her knees in two long odangos.

_Meiling_? I wonder, surprise numbing all pain as my eyes widen and I jump to my feet with an agility that disconcerts me. I throw my hands in front of me defensively, trying to discern the girl's features. She looks a lot like Meiling, but I have to wonder. The last time I saw her, we parted as, if not friends, then at least not rivals. I think.

So why would she attack me now?

I gaze at the girl's oddly bright face, feeling sensations of odd familiarity wash over me as I grow accustomed to the light radiating off of her in waves. And then, as I sense her power level spiking again and sense rather than see her fist move toward me in a crashing blow, I realize.

This isn't Meiling at all.

I duck under the girl's fist as it crashes to where my head had been just seconds earlier. Her other fist comes swinging out of nowhere, barrelling toward my sides. I trap it with both of my hands before her foot flexes and connects with my arm. I trap her foot between my arm and my side, and catching her off-balance, send my own elbow crashing onto her collarbone. She falls to the ground, winded momentarily.

The light dims briefly, and I glance at my opponent's face. My hunch is confirmed as I take in the girl's pale blue skin, her long white hair, her abnormally large fists...

"Fight," I breathe, feeling a definite bout of nausea overwhelming me as I remember the last time I encountered the Fight Card. I remember how Meiling battled it and how I narrowly escaped last time only because Tomoyo had thought of the Power Card -

_But what's going on?_ I ask myself desperately, moving back as Fight jumps to her feet and assesses me with a shrewd look in her eyes.

Something definitely doesn't add up. I captured Fight ages ago. Turned her into a Sakura Card years ago. She's supposed to be at home under Kero's protection _right now_.

So what the hell is she doing out here, picking fights with _me_, of all people?!

I let out an involuntary yelp as Fight moves in and throws a punch in my direction with lightning speed. I duck under her punch again, knowing I won't be as lucky as I was the first time. My only option is to take cover until I know what's going on.

Feinting, I dive for my opponent's foot, catching it and tripping her head over heels. Before she can react, I slip out of the tangle and flee off the pathway, into the snow-covered brush. The sky darkens rapidly as I reach blindly for the chain around my neck, the key that's been hanging docilely against my heart for all these years. The key I've almost forgotten about.

Wordlessly, the key transforms into my staff. I barely have time to do much else before Fight materializes a foot in front of me and charges toward me. I point my staff at her and think, _fire_, with all my strength.

A burst of flame explodes from the end of my staff, blasting Fight six feet into the air. She lands sprawled in the middle of the pathway, dazed.

_Halt_, I command the flames, which are circling the brush alarmingly quickly. The last thing I need is for all of Tomoeda to burn down while I try tame this – mutinous little Card.

I step onto the path, directly in front of the fallen Fight Card. I wonder whether I should move in for the kill, or simply bind her here now and go home to ask Kero for advice...

That moment's indecision costs me a lot, as in the blink of an eye, Fight disappears from view. I'm left standing there, staring stupidly at the empty ground in front of me, before something slams forcefully into my back again, and I land not too gracefully on all fours. The staff slides four feet away from me.

I spring to my feet, scooping the staff in my hands, and turn to face Fight, who's coming over me with a volley of kicks and punches. I gasp, trying to evade them all.

_Lightning_, I think feebly, sending a shock of bright blue sparks down Fight's arm as it sinks into my stomach. I don't even stop to check whether I've hit her or not. I close my eyes and summon the Jump Card's powers. Within seconds, tiny pairs of wings have appeared on the backs of my shoes and I take flight from there as fast as I can.

As I grow accustomed to the feeling of flying from treetops to rooftops, and as the town grows smaller and smaller, I'm acutely aware of something in hot pursuit. I can hear Fight's footfalls mimicking my own, as stealthy and agile a predator that ever existed. I thank Kami-sama that Fight doesn't have any elemental powers like I do.

Almost in response, something white hot streaks by me, grazing my cheek. I shriek, landing heavily on a rooftop not too far from my home. There's a burn on my face. Six feet away from me, Fight lands quietly, the palm of her right hand smoking ominously.

_She can shoot fire_, I think to myself in a daze, my hand still against my injured face. _She's super strong, she can disappear into thin air, and she can control fire. What the hell has Kero done to her?!_

You'd think that, being the Cardmistress and all, I'd be perfectly capable of handling any odd thing that came my way, including a rogue Card here and there. But, it's been years since I've even unsealed the wand and I most certainly haven't been practicing my magic as diligently as I did in the years after creating the Sakura book. So, as I stand here and see the darkness in Fight's angered, defiant eyes, I'm most definitely scared.

I move my wand defensively, clutching the thick pink baton with both hands warningly.

"Go back," I say, in a voice as commanding as I can get it to be under the circumstances. "You shouldn't be here at this time."

It sounds strange, but I've actually managed to talk to some of the Cards before, and they listen. But somehow, I get the feeling that there's no point reasoning with Fight.

My instincts are sound at least, as Fight flexes her left fist and sends a ball of crackling blue light in my direction.

_Shit_. Reflexively, I conjure up a shield, and the sphere of energy ricochets off of it and into the night. Fight glances at it lazily. Me, I'm jarred from my wrists up to my shoulders. The sheer power behind Fight's attacks astounds me beyond belief. Just when did she become so powerful?!

"Go back to your true form," I warn her. My words sound hollow in my ears. I can't believe how weak I've become. How could I have been so careless?! _How_?!

She tosses her head arrogantly before charging toward me again. She shatters through the shield I've put up with some effort (to my credit), and gasping, I jump back a step before she launches herself upon me, her limbs pounding against my own.

_Power Card_, I think with all my strength, parrying her fists with my wand, which feels more and more like a bright pink stick than anything else, _lend me your magic_.

It must be working, because I can feel my muscles strengthening, my speed quickening. And when Fight draws back to land the final blow, I kick her in the gut, sending her flying twelve feet away.

She lies there, spread-eagled across the cold rooftop. I wonder vaguely about where I am before I wave my staff at her.

"Return to your true form," I command. "Fight Card."

Nothing happens. I feel panic eating away at my senses. What's going on? Why aren't my sealing powers working? The last time this happened – hell, this has _never_ happened before – but the last time something close to this catastrophic happened, Eriol had been behind it. But Eriol's over here in Tomoeda, and he's on my side now. I think...

Fight jumps to her feet and dashes toward me. This time, I'm ready, panic and Power's magic combining to lend more speed to my limbs than ever before. I meet Fight in her headlong dash, blocking her oncoming fists, taking the few blows she lands on me with relative ease, and landing a punch or kick here and there. I drive an elbow into the small of her back and she falls. I raise my staff, preparing for a final attack when Fight suddenly raises her arm and sends a wave of – well – _something_ flying at me.

Waves of immeasurable power pound against me, driving me back until I fall to my knees. _Kami_, the pain! The pain! I feel like I've been concussed; like I've broken every single bone in my body. Deep ringing sounds are echoing in my head and I think I see stars dancing in front of my eyes...

_Get to your feet_, I think to myself disconnectedly.

That would be a good idea, but my feet won't move. I'm telling my limbs to move, but they won't listen to me. I can't even feel the pain anymore. This wouldn't be bad, actually, but Fight's getting to her feet and surveying me like a cat does to a mouse once it's cornered.

Shit. Shit. Shit. _Shit_.

Fight stretches her arms outward, and throws them violently in my direction. I see the hot white flames propelling directly toward me, and I can't even move because numbness and fear have paralyzed me, holding me motionless in the path of this raging inferno.

I shut my eyes and throw my hands up, shielding my face as I await the scorching pain of the white hot fire, preparing to be burned to ashes and cinders...

But it never comes.

Instead, I hear a loud fizzing sound, just inches away from my face. Clouds of steam assault my skin and nose, and I cough violently.

...but nonetheless, I'm still alive.

_What happened?_

I open my eyes tentatively, fearing to see Fight's frenzied eyes inches away from my own, her smirk the last thing I see. But all I see are clouds of steam, dying embers and pools of water. Flowing water.

My mouth goes dry as I lower my arms. Almost too late, my senses warn me of another presence, whose power is just about equal to that of the Fight Card.

My hands tighten around the staff as my head snaps sharply to confront whatever it is that's standing there. I'm terrified that it might be another mad Card: maybe Watery or another Card even more dangerous than Fight.

But my heart skips a beat when I see a figure step out of the shadows, its clothing unremarkable, its hair and eyes tinted curiously golden in the dying twilight.

And, curse all the clichés in the world with a murderous vengeance right now, because who else would be standing there looking so calm and utterly composed, but Syaoran himself?

_Syaoran_, I try to call out, but my voice betrays me, deserting me completely. There's no more air in my lungs, and I can feel the ground beneath me swaying.

Although that could be partially because Fight is charging Syaoran, and he's fighting the Card probably even better than I had been _with_ the aid of the Power card.

My mind is reaching new levels of confusion. What's Syaoran, of all people, doing here, and why did he suddenly jump into the fray? Could it be that – but I don't have time to ponder, or think, or do anything at all. Besides jump to my feet and send the strongest wave of – I'm not sure what it is, exactly – but _something_ toward Fight as it pulverizes Syaoran's defenses and lands a blow to his upper arm.

I see shock written in his face as he jumps back. Fight isn't so lucky. She gets caught in my wave of dark energy, and when she finally collapses, I sink to my own knees. Oh, I've experienced battle weariness before, but this is something new. I feel so drained, so empty. As though all the vital energy's been sucked out of me and I'm just hollow.

But my work here isn't done yet. I'm aware that this stillness won't last, that Syaoran's looking at me impatiently, waiting for me to finish my job.

"Return," is all I can manage in my weakness. But it'll be enough. It has to be enough. And sure enough, finally, streams of pink light surround the Fight Card, and slowly, it transforms into the pink, rectangular Sakura card. I hold my breath as it floats toward my outstretched fingers, and falls to the ground softly.

I exhale sharply, dropping the sealing wand and lowering my head. I've never felt this exhausted before, not even after the Final Judgment or Eriol's last test. I take shallow breaths, cursing my crushed lungs and my aching muscles and my burning, stinging cheek coupled with the innumerable bruises forming on my back, my stomach, my sides, my arms...

Chivalry is dead, as Syaoran doesn't say a word or move a muscle. He just stands where he is, and I know he's looking at me, because I can feel his penetrating gaze burning a hole through the top of my skull.

Long moments of silence pass, during which neither of us say a word or move a muscle, save for my uneven, shaky breathing. It's far from comfortable; I think there's little elsewhere in the world I wouldn't rather be at this moment...

At length, I'm able to regain control of my limbs. My fingers close weakly around the sealing wand and it retakes its original form, a warm key hanging around my neck. Then I struggle to my feet, feeling the world sway alarmingly around me as I do. I stagger, but regain my balance before hesitantly meeting his eyes.

Syaoran's staring at me curtly, his shrewd amber gaze calculating, assessing. I'm scared to look into his eyes too deeply, for fear of what I might find. Disgust. Contempt. Hatred, probably. Or even worse, compassion, concern, fear...

I needn't have worried. There's nothing in his face. Nothing.

_Of course_, I say to myself with a bitter laugh. _This isn't the same Syaoran from years ago. This is a Syaoran who doesn't care about you at all, a Syaoran who'll step into the fight only to prove something of himself once more -_

I sigh before turning around, preparing to leave with as much dignity as I have left. _There's nothing for you here..._

"Wait," I hear him say suddenly, his voice so clipped and commanding that I stiffen uncomfortably. Then, I turn to face him, the question in my eyes.

There's no giveaway of anything he may be feeling as his hard amber gaze scrutinizes my face, taking in the burns, the bruises, the pallor, the sheer utter exhaustion -

"Come with me," he says – no – orders.

I tilt my head to the side questioningly, ready to resist him if I only had the energy, but he doesn't have the patience for that. All he does is cross his arms against his chest and turn around, beginning to walk away at his usual brisk pace.

He doesn't even wait for me. Typical.

* * *

Thankfully, I don't collapse or do anything stupid or embarrassing before Syaoran stops in front of his house. Although, there was a bit of a tense moment when he simply leapt down from the rooftop to the ground in one smooth motion and watched me coolly as I tried to follow suit and ended up crashing into the ground with more force than I'd expected. Not a sound came out of my mouth, but his sharp eyes caught the wince of pain spreading across my face as I rose to my feet, and as my eyes met his defiantly, I fancied I saw his lip curl. Then he turned away and continued walking a good twelve paces ahead of me, and I straggled behind. My ankle was beginning to throb but I'd endured worse before.

As I stop in my paces and look around me, I begin to understand why Syaoran of all people had shown up in the middle of my epic battle with the Fight Card.

We'd landed on his roof.

I don't even have the energy to curse Kami-sama for my rotten luck. Or the time, for that matter, because Syaoran pushes the gates open and strides through them. I glance at him, more than slightly uncomfortable. He's going home. Am I supposed to follow him, or do I just assume that our paths are meant to separate right here, and I'm supposed to go home and put all this behind me and maybe pretend that this never happened -

"Well?" Syaoran cuts through my thoughts impatiently, his hand still holding the gates open.

I bite back the sigh and the angry retort that overwhelms me as I make my way to the gateway. Well, at least he has the decency to hold the door – or gates, rather – open for a girl...

My hand shoots out as the gates swing toward my face suddenly. Straightening myself, I glimpse him walking down the bare, tree-lined avenue that leads toward his front door, hands in his pockets, his back squarely facing me.

_So much for decency!_ I think to myself indignantly, slamming the gates behind me perhaps with more force than was necessary, because they swing shut with a resounding crash and the gates encircling the entire property begins to rattle.

Maybe I do it because I want to elicit some response from him. I want him to acknowledge the fact that he's brought me here, to his house, against my will, and he's treating me _horribly_. I'm not even trying to get him to recognize how wrong he is, or just how much I hate him at this moment, but still, _anything_, even one word from his mouth, would be so much better than this awkward, awkward silence -

The front doors open silently, the giant double doors swinging outward smoothly before Syaoran even reaches it. To any outsider, it seems as though the unfairly large mansion is welcoming him home, a battle-weary soldier or prince, perhaps. But to me, it seems as though those doors open into an abyss of swirling black, a place of damnation from which there's no return. A place determined to judge all the wrongs I've committed in my life and exact retribution for every single one of them. And the ominous sounds of my footfalls – and his – echoing around the palatial, darkened interior does little to quell my uneasiness.

"Where is everyone?" I ask suddenly, noting the absolute silence and absence of other living beings. "Meiling, Wei-san, your servants -"

"Out," Syaoran answers, his voice cold. He doesn't even turn around to look at me, or move a muscle, for that matter. He just keeps walking, leading me out of the foyer, through an ornately decorated hallway, up a grand spiral staircase, and down another hallway before he finally stops in front of a door.

I've never been in this particular region of Syaoran's house before, but I have a very definite inkling of where we are right now. And as Syaoran pushes the door open and steps inside, I follow him to see a place I've always wondered about, these long years since.

His room.

He has a beautiful room, although I'd always imagined it to be more luxurious and spacious, with martial arts trophies and medallions adorning every vacant surface, and priceless swords and magical trinkets festooning the walls. The entire chamber is painted unforgiving green, as was to be expected, and a pair of sheathed swords are pinned against the far wall, above his bed's headstand, but that's it for my imagination. Instead, the room is almost cozy, with watercolours in pastel frames hanging from the rest of the walls, and papers neatly stacked on his chestnut desk, and a gleaming, state-of-the-art PC installed against the window -

The gauzy emerald drapes are pulled back, and I can see the night sky from where I'm standing. It's a beautiful sight, all inky black with twinkling little stars and a glowing crescent moon shining just above my house -

It strikes me that I'm staring at my bedroom window. It's small, but it's definitely mine. And the lights are on.

_Who turned those on?_ I think to myself urgently, starting for the window. _The electricity's running, and we can't afford many more expenses! What are they thinking?!_

Syaoran probably notices that I'm staring at my home with more of an intensity than he'd banked on, because in a trice, he pulls the drapes closed, plunging the room into a dim half-light.

At this moment, I decide I've had enough. I've put up with enough of Syaoran's nonsense and his cold, tight-lipped disapproval. Why the hell should I care if he's angry with me? Who is he to me, anyway? Not a well-wisher, and definitely not a friend, at this rate.

"I'm leaving," I say firmly, though my voice comes out a bit hoarse.

Syaoran doesn't even stir, or turn around to face me for that matter.

"I'm going home," I say again, my voice coming out stronger.

The coward doesn't twitch.

"It's late and they're probably looking for me," I force myself to continue, determined to keep talking until he at least _acknowledges_ my presence (if that's too much to ask for, considering he's the one that brought me here in the first place!) and then slam the door in his face. "Not everyone has the luxury of having a giant palace all to themselves, with no one in the world to worry about, or even _care_ about, for that matter -"

I think I touch a nerve, because I see him stiffen.

I close my eyes, willing myself to remain calm. Apparently, that's the best response I'm getting from him tonight – or ever, because I'm _never_ talking to this bastard again. Ever.

"Just..." I start, and my anger, exhaustion and sheer frustration consumes me for a moment. "Just go to hell already!"

And with that very eloquent parting, I turn on my heel and walk out of his room. Well, I reach the door before I hear his voice.

"Stop."

I freeze, before whirling around. He's turned around so that he's facing me, and his face is so pale and tightly controlled, it almost fazes me. Almost.

"Why?" I demand, crossing my arms against my chest.

He stares at me, his gaze piercing, cold, almost hungry. It unnerves me and leaves me weak at the same time.

"Why not?" he challenges softly, a shadow coming into his eyes.

I open my mouth to protest hotly, flex my fists so that I can throttle the life out of him – but then my eyes fall upon a picture affixed to the wall.

I must have been extremely blind or extremely preoccupied, because there's no way I could have ever mistaken this for a watercolour. It's a photograph framed in fading wood, an old photograph of two laughing children smiling genially into the camera. One of them is a boy, with striking amber eyes and a mouth split wide open with laughter. The other is a girl, pressed closely and comfortably against him, her short honey-tinted hair falling into her eyes, alight with happiness...

I blink twice and stare at it, my mouth gaping open like an idiot's.

"But..." I say stupidly, not even knowing what the hell I mean to say.

His eyes follow my gaze, to the photograph on the wall. His mouth tightens into a thin line, and his fists clench.

"And?" he interjects by way of response. It was his not-so-subtle way of pointing out to me that I was interfering in matters I had best keep my nosy self out of.

I shake my head and close my eyes, trying to will the picture out of my head, to forget that I'd ever seen it at all. But my insides were writhing with hope that I had quenched coldly the week after he had returned. The hope that maybe still, after all these years, he still had a place for me -

"Nothing," I say hastily, cutting myself off before I get carried away with myself. It's cruel, to have to keep your thoughts so controlled, to quell your hopes and curb your anxieties on these matters closest to the heart. But it's also cruel to have to stand here in front of the last person I want to be with at the moment, the one person I've longed for the most these long years since...

I see something curiously and wondrously close to hurt flashing in his eyes before they harden. His mouth seems like it's chiselled from stone, and when he speaks, his voice is like ice.

"Thought so," he says spitefully. In spite of the coldness emanating from him, the ferocious glare I'm sending him, and the waves of hostility crashing between us, he doesn't turn away and neither do I. It's as though we've come to an understanding; that we have come to terms with the resentment that's splitting us apart. And at the same time, we can't read each other at all. We know nothing about each other; nothing except this frozen bitterness, this yawning indifference. Nothing except the biting fact that we used to know each other when we were younger and, for some strange, inexplicable reason, that intimacy collapsed on itself. And it hurts, to stand here and glare at him, with my blood frothing in my veins over his words and actions, and my mind processing bright and happy memories of what things between us were like when we were younger, and my imagination producing vivid images of what could have been -

"What was that back there?"

I blink and come to my senses abruptly. Syaoran's taken a step back, but his arms are still crossed and his gaze is still hard.

"What was what?" I ask stupidly, knowing full well what Syaoran wants to talk about and remembering the last time we had come to blows over the Cards. It had been when we had first met, when we didn't know anything about each other except competition and threats. How long it took for the cycle to come full circle, for us to become complete strangers once again. Because the two of us standing here _are_ like unknown individuals meeting for the first time. That's how estranged we are.

"You know what I mean," he answers in a low voice, his eyes narrowing. "You were trying to fight something. What was it?"

What kind of a question is that? He's seen the Fight card before, he's _fought_ the Fight card before, and he even saw me transform it into its original form! He _knows_ that it was one of my Cards. Why is he asking me this if he already knows the answer?

"It was the Fight card," I let out through gritted teeth. "But I'm sure you knew that already."

There's a charged silence as Syaoran stands absolutely still, his eyes and facial expression giving away nothing.

"I thought it was," he says slowly. "But why was the Fight card fighting _you_ of all people?"

_Now how the hell am I supposed to know?_ I reply waspishly in my head. Outwardly, I cross my hands across my chest and glare at him.

"None of your business," I snap.

Syaoran raises an eyebrow.

"You don't know, do you?" he asks, his lip curling contemptuously again.

"That's also none of your business," I retort stubbornly.

We glare at each other for a moment. I think I can feel electricity crackling in the air between us.

"And if I hadn't shown up," Syaoran says suddenly, and I feel myself stiffen defensively, "and you'd been burned to ashes -"

"I don't owe you anything," I say flatly, recognizing where this conversation is going.

"I don't _need_ anything from you, anyway," he returns. "What could someone like you possibly understand about – about -"

"About what?" I ask with a slight scoff. "Debts? Magic? Friendship, maybe?"

He gives me a puzzled look, but doesn't say anything.

"If that's the case, then I suggest you look back a few years," I say coldly, amazed at how much of an effort it is to keep my voice steady. "I think I saved your skin more than enough times to make up for today -"

Syaoran lets out a bitter laugh, and I freeze.

"So we're taking accounts of everything we did when we were younger?" he asks, somewhat dryly. "I thought we were friends back then too."

I open my mouth wordlessly. The _nerve_ of him, to comment so sarcastically on those years that we had shared! Somehow, I thought it was something we both treasured, but from the looks of it, he regrets every moment he had spent with me.

And that hurts so much...

"I'm amazed that you even know what friends are," I say in a low voice. "You don't respect anyone enough to come close to it -"

"At least I keep my promises!" Syaoran bursts out.

Once the words are out of his mouth, he cringes slightly. I blink once, twice, trying to make sense of it all. His promises? What promises?

"What in the name of Kami-sama are you talking about?" I demand, feeling a little sick in my stomach. It's getting late, I'm exhausted and sore all over, and I have to get home because the lights are on and the bills are mounting, and Syaoran sure as hell isn't paying for them -

"So you don't remember," Syaoran says, in a voice so dark that I can barely recognize it.

"I remember everything, Syaoran," I answer, and my voice is starting to quaver. "Everything. You're the one who changed things around here, not me -"

Syaoran laughs harshly again, and I wince.

"Me?" he asks sarcastically. "All I did was come back to Tomoeda, just as I promised. But you – you don't recognize it because _you're_ the one who's changed around here! You've shut out all your friends, you mess around with that Yamame guy all the time and to top it all off, you've gotten so weak, it's pathetic!"

I take a step back, his angry words echoing in my ears. I don't know whether to laugh or cry, because everything he's just said is so wrong and _so – damned – messed_.

"Just who do you think you are?" I whisper, feeling hot tears burn in my eyes. "Why does it matter to you, anyway? Maybe once upon a time, we were friends, but you changed everything between us the day you came back to Tomoeda -"

Syaoran's expression changes to one of outrage.

"What are you talking about -"

"Don't interrupt me!" I explode. "Just _listen_ to me! For the last seven years you were in Hong Kong. Did you ever write to me? Did you ever try _ask_ about how everything was here? Did you ever _care_ to find out? No, you didn't! Every time you wrote, it was always about _you, you_ and _you_!"

"I did care!" Syaoran protests. "I wrote as often as I could -"

"You expect me to believe that?" I ask harshly. "Come on, Syaoran. Just how busy were you? You couldn't take five minutes off your busy schedule to say hi to _your best friend_? You couldn't take a moment to just _ask_ her about what her life was like?!"

"Well, considering you don't even tell _Tomoyo_ about what goes on in your life, I doubt you'd tell _me_ anything either!" Syaoran interjects.

I shake my head pityingly. Poor, poor misguided Syaoran. Kami-sama be kind to all women and _never_ give him a wife.

"I would if you'd just asked," I say softly. "I would have told you anything, if only you wanted to know. But you didn't want to know. You were too busy. And – now, when it's too late, you're turning around and asking me to _confide_ in you?"

"I never said that," Syaoran mutters. But his face is stark white.

"I don't care anymore," I retort. "I don't care what you say about me, because in your eyes, I never grew up. You just waltzed back into Tomoeda, expecting to just open up a chapter of your life and pick up where you left off. You never even _considered_ the fact that things happened here when you were gone. You never even thought _once_ about everything you just accused me of doing!"

His eyes are widening, and I think he means to interrupt me, but I don't let him speak. It's like a dam has burst inside me and everything is just rushing out. I can't stop this tirade from bursting forth, otherwise I might explode from keeping it all bottled up.

"And even after all that, I waited for you! I waited and waited, and even though you barely wrote, I waited for you. Even after everything changed, I thought you would come back and make it all alright, somehow..." My voice breaks.

Across from me, Syaoran's face has changed. His expression has darkened and his eyes seem somewhat guilty. But he's on his guard, as always.

"But you caved," he says finally. "Don't blame me for everything, Sakura. You went out with Yamame. You could have waited for one more day -"

"Oh, just shut up!" I snap. "Stop being such a hypocrite! If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were _jealous_ of Tarou! And anyway, you'd already ended things between us before I even said yes to – forget it. Why do I have to explain anything to you?"

I'm panting right now. How dare Syaoran act all offended right now? How _dare_ he accuse me of not waiting for him? For Kami's sake, I visited him _at his house_ in the freezing cold evening of the day he got back from Hong Kong! And what did he do? He slammed the door in my face! So how is any of this my fault? How did I change things? I waited for him, just as I promised. But if he wasn't willing to carry on the friendship...then shouldn't that mean that I was free to move on? Even though, technically, Tarou and I aren't even going out? (but if Syaoran doesn't know that, then it's his fault and he should learn to pay more attention).

"What are you talking about?" Syaoran asks, and he takes a step toward me. "_I_ ended things? I didn't even _see_ you until after you'd agreed to be that bastard's girlfriend!"

Hot rage floods through me, as I step up to him, so that we're almost nose to nose. So now he's going to pretend it never happened, then?

"You have a lot of nerve," I seethe. "I came to see you the very first day you came back to Tomoeda. I was tired, starving, and freezing cold, but I still came to see you. And what did you do? You turned your back on me and slammed the door in my face! Remember? '_You're not getting anything from here'_? Those were your exact words, and if those don't spell out rejection, then I don't know what does!"

I give him a spiteful look before turning around on my heel. But before I can take one step away from him, I feel a hand grab me roughly by the shoulder and spin me around.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Syaoran hisses, pulling me up against him. "You never came to my house at all! I never saw you that evening or -"

I've had enough. I pull my hand back and slap him across the face.

He shuts up.

"Don't talk to me," I warn him dangerously, breathing heavily. I take a step backward, and then another step.

He turns his face toward me, and his eyes are hurt. This time, he doesn't even bother masking his expression.

"Sakura -" he begins, but I shake my head violently.

"You couldn't understand," I stammer, feeling myself back up against his door. The ground sways beneath me. "You couldn't."

And before the world crashes about me, I turn around and flee from his room, his house, and everything that has to do with him.

Only when I'm a safe distance away from his mansion, on the sidewalk, do I allow the tears to fall...

* * *

**Disclaimer:** CCS belongs to CLAMP, anything you don't recognize is a figment of my imagination. Oh, and my income is in pencil shavings, so you can sue me for those if you really, really want some... :P

**a/n: **Aww. Don't they both make you want to, like, grab them by the scruffs of their necks and bash their heads together or something:)

And just to clarify: yes, I'm aware that Syaoran was a jerk in this chapter. But there are two sides to every story, so don't hate him yet!

Of course, there is tranquility after every storm. **-hint-** I'm sure that once Syaoran mulls over things a bit, he might experience a change of heart-ish?

I was planning to go a lot further than this, but I didn't have the energy. Anyway, I think I should devote some of the next chapter to Syaoran's thoughts before going ahead with the plot (e.g. **omg what happened to the cards like why did fight go psycho?!?**) Haha...

**Next Chapter:** Syaoran turns his brain on. Sakura rushes home and finds things a bit topsy-turvy? Maybe an apology if you guys are nice and responsive? (wow, I can be bought over so easily...) Read about it in the next chapter, _Bittersweet_!

**Please do review! I'm trying to maintain 30 reviews a chapter. Think you love me enough to do it for me?**

**:D**

**-_Celestiana_**


	8. Bittersweet

_**Literary..**_

_**-**_

**Summary: **Sakura is a famous fanfiction author. Syaoran is the best beta she's ever had. They share a world made of the words and tales they weave and write. But they don't know that they know each other...in real life.

_**-**_

**Full Summary: **He promised he'd come back for her. She promised to wait for him. But a misunderstanding creates a giant rift between Sakura and Syaoran, enough to break the powerful friendship they once shared. To escape fate's blows, Sakura seeks solace in fanfiction and soon becomes a famous author on the busy _Fanfiction Corner, _under the alias Sayuri. She's lucky enough to meet Lang, and he becomes her greatest fan, faithful beta, and online buddy/soulmate. Wait until she finds out that "Lang" is really Syaoran, the cause of all her troubles...

**-**

**a/n: **315. Holy geez, you are all simply amazing. Please, please keep up your support!

All right, this chapter is probably what (a lot of you) have been waiting for. I wrote more than half of it today, so forgive any lapses/rushed thingies. I'll probably edit it later when I have time.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Seven. Bittersweet

-

**Syaoran's POV**

-

_...you'd already ended things between us before I even said yes to – forget it. Why do I have to explain anything to you?_

I sit down on my bed slowly, my head still spinning around Sakura's words. My eyes finally break away from the spot where she used to be standing, and they land instead, on the picture of her and I as kids.

I feel sick. Not just uneasy, but _sick_. My stomach is churning and I feel like throwing up. What just happened here?

Nothing I'd expected, that's for sure. Then again, the entire confrontation was somewhat sudden. Scratch that, it was _completely_ out of nowhere – and I mean that literally. What's a guy supposed to do when his age-old rival-turned-friend-turned-stranger randomly crash-lands onto his roof at eight in the evening? Invite her in for tea?

Maybe once upon a time I would have, but at the moment, I wasn't feeling too civil. Even though my aggravation toward her might have lessened a bit after what Tomoyo told me, I still didn't know how to handle that new Sakura. And just – _Kami_, what was I supposed to have done? It took all of my control not to simply lash out at her and demand to know what it was that she was hiding from the rest of us. What changed her. It's not like it's any of my business or anything but...it's just...I _need_ to know!

Lame excuses, I know, but I think I've hit my saturation point. I mean, sure, I wasn't the most communicative individual these last seven years – okay fine, maybe I _do_ take the blame for that. Maybe I should have called more often – maybe I should have written more often... If I'd spent less time chatting with Sayuri on the _Fanfiction Corner_, then maybe I could have witnessed the change in Sakura for myself. And maybe she would have confided in me...

It strikes me that maybe this _is_ entirely my fault. If only I'd saved more time for my friend, then maybe this distance wouldn't have existed between us. Maybe I would have had the right to confront her the day I returned, to just _ask_ her about her decisions. Maybe she would have had the courage to clear up any misunderstandings between us. If only...

I close my eyes as I try to remember that night. My first night in Tomoeda. The night I apparently ended our friendship by slamming the door shut on her face. The problem is, I don't remember doing that at all. Even Kami-sama knows that if Sakura had showed up at my door, I would have tripped over myself to see her and tell her that her Syaoran-kun was back. If she'd showed up at my door...I don't think she would have left here for a long time afterward, because there would be so much to catch up on.

But she says she did. And that, contrary to what I would have wanted to do, I ended up locking her out.

I hear the door open, and before I can react, I hear Meiling's voice at the doorway.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

I open my eyes to meet hers. In response, her eyes widen and she takes a half-step into the room.

"What the hell happened to you?" she demands, hands flying to her hips. "You look like you got beaten into the afterlife and then back again."

Cheers, Meiling.

"Thanks," I mutter, wondering if my brawl with the Fight Card had truly been so draining on me physically. Somehow, it doesn't seem to matter anymore.

Meiling lets out an exclamation before flipping an odango over her shoulder.

"Earth to Syaoran!" she calls, her face mottling a bit. "I'm talking to you, you know."

"Yeah, I hear you," I mutter, rubbing my eyes distractedly. "I'm a bit tired, in case you haven't noticed."

She lets out a scoff, but falls silent. Moments later, I feel her sit down on the bed beside me.

"You're hurt," she says, her voice rising. "There's a rip on your sleeve and a bruise on your face. Have you been fighting?"

"Of course not," I reply in a caustic voice. "I fell off the roof, didn't you know?"

I meet her gaze defiantly, expecting her to jump to her feet indignantly and leave in a huff. Fine by me. I could use some privacy, just to sort things over in my head and figure out what I should do. But, surprisingly, Meiling holds my gaze without anger or indignation. She looks, well, _thoughtful_, almost...

"You were talking to Sakura, weren't you?" she asks slowly, her eyes searching mine for an answer.

I choke a little and burst out coughing. What the – how the hell did she know? Is she psychic or something?

"I'll take that as a yes," Meiling says dryly as I recover from my coughing fit.

I gape at her. She rolls her eyes.

"You're red as a beet," she explains. "There's only one girl you turn red around."

"I do _not_!" I protest hotly, but I think I just turn even redder in response. _Stupid, stupid, stupid -_

"Why were you talking to Sakura, of all people?" Meiling presses, her eyes curious. "I thought you were angry at her."

"None of your business," I mutter, feeling my ears turn hot. Great. Now I'm beginning to talk like her too.

She sighs.

"Suit yourself," she says, getting up from beside me. "Oh, by the way, even if you weren't talking to Sakura, maybe you'd like to tell me how _this_ ended up outside your room?"

She holds something out in her hand. I double-take at the sight of the pink, rectangular Sakura card in Meiling's fingers.

"Well?" Meiling presses, holding it out to me. Without a word, I snatch it from her. The card is still warm. When did she drop it? Isn't this supposed to be magic? Why doesn't anything make sense anymore?

"She came to see me," I mumble, against my will.

Meiling raises an eyebrow.

"Willingly or did you force her?" she asks dryly.

"Not now!" I snap. "The day I came back from Hong Kong. She said she came to see me."

Meiling stares at me. I think I see apprehension dawning in her eyes.

"Oh..." she says in a voice that makes me feel suddenly uncomfortable.

"And then -" I swallow before continuing, "she told me that I shut the door on her. Told her that she wasn't getting anything from here -"

"_Kami_!" Meiling breathes exasperatedly. "You did! I heard you say that, but you thought it was some lady collecting for charity or something. Remember?"

I gape at her stupidly for a good moment, before it all comes crashing down upon me.

That girl. That girl by the gate. What had she said?

"_Hello? Are you -"_

And I'd cut her off. _Fuck_, I'd even sworn at her. And – _Kami-sama_ – I'd even denied it to her, and I'd spent all this time trying to figure out why she was mad at me when really...

"_Fuck_," is all I can manage.

Meiling gazes at me, part sympathetically, part disgustedly.

"That's right," she says, most unhelpfully. "You fucked up big time there."

She sits down beside me.

"So what are you going to do about it?" she asks me briskly.

She catches me off guard.

"What?" I ask her.

She shoves me off the bed. I end up sprawled at the ground by her feet, all the wind knocked out of me.

"I asked you -" Meiling says pointedly, getting to her feet and grabbing my shoulders, "-what you're going to do about this."

"About _this_?" I repeat uncertainly. She pulls me roughly to my feet. "Um, run to her house to give back the Fight card and then apologize?"

Meiling nods curtly.

"Good idea," she says approvingly. "Although I think you owe her more than an apology. At this rate, I think she deserves an explanation."

"Meiling -" I start, searching her face. "I thought you didn't like her."

She sighs.

"I don't _dis_like her either," she says by means of explanation, as if that's supposed to make any sense at all. And then, in a gesture of cousinly support, she shoves me out of my room and closes the door behind me.

I take the hint and _run_.

-

**Sakura's POV**

**-**

I wipe the tears away from my face hastily as I stumble into my yard. I feel lost and hollow from my encounter with Syaoran, and right now, all I want to do is run into my room and confront Kero about the Fight card. _Anything_ to distract me from the emptiness I feel right now.

I grab the key in my pocket to unlock the front door, but to my surprise, it's already open.

_What...?_

I open the door cautiously and enter my house silently, closing the door quietly behind me. The lights are still on. There's a blanket half-draped over the couch. I see a vase overturned and, as I follow the trail of mess that leads into the kitchen, I see the remnants of a shattered teacup. The one Dad always drinks from.

It takes me a good moment to notice the green tea that has spilled over the ground.

Fear grips my heart in its icy cold grip. I stumble backward from the kitchen, sick and cold.

"_Otou-san_!" I gasp, my voice choked and wobbly already. My foot catches on the rug and I fall backward, sprawled on the ground in a daze. Scrabbling blindly, I get to my feet and stagger back the way I came, following the overturned vase, the disturbed rugs and slight scuff marks of boot-clad feet back to my doorway. As I open the door and look into the night, I see a deserted street. The one I had trudged through morosely, not seconds ago.

"_Otou-san_!" I repeat again, my voice louder, echoing slightly in the street. My legs buckle beneath me, and I grab the doorpost for support, clinging to it like a lifeline. Even as I slide to the ground, waiting for an answer, I know that the house is empty and no one will hear me.

Touya – Touya isn't even home. Dad – something happened to him. Something serious, because the house is always spotless. Kami-sama, what happened to him? Why wasn't I home when it happened? Why, _why_ was I so selfish? How could I have let this happen?

"Sakura-chan!"

Kero flutters by my side, his features urgent.

"Where were you?" he demands, protective as a guardian beast like always. "Your father and brother were so worried about you and then -"

"What happened to Otou-san, Kero?" I demand, my voice hoarse from crying. I grab him in my hands and gaze at him desperately. "Where are they?"

_And please, let it not be my fault..._

"Hospital," Kero says, and I feel my own heart stumble. _Hospital? What? _"Fujitaka-san had a – a -"

"A _what_?" I nearly scream, shaking him. "_What_?"

He gulps.

"A heart attack," he says, so quietly I don't hear him at first.

"A heart – heart – attack," I stutter, the word sounding ugly and forbidding on my lips. "A _heart attack_?"

Kero nods.

"_Kami_," I breathe, getting to my feet. I head up to my room, taking the stairs two at a time.

"Sakura!" Kero yelps, flying after me. "Where are you going?"

I don't look at him as I throw a drawer open and grab a few odds and ends.

"I have to go to him," I say feverishly, throwing Dad's prescriptions and medicines into a bag and slinging it over my shoulder.

"At this hour?" Kero screeches, fluttering in front of my face. "Sakura, they went in an ambulance and Touya was worried sick about you! You look exhausted and you haven't eaten all day, and it's _snowing_ outside. Where are you going to go now, and how are you going to get there?"

I pull on my winter coat and grab the key hanging around my neck.

"I have my ways," I say shortly. "Kero, you are to stay right here. Turn off the lights and lock the doors. And when I come back with Otou-san and onii-chan, we have to talk about the Fight card because it went berserk on me today!"

Before he has a chance to react even, I transform the key into my wand and summon the Jump card. For the second time today, tiny wings appear on the bottoms of my heels and I leap out my bedroom window and into the December sky.

-

**Syaoran's POV**

-

I race down the street, praying that I'm not too late. I need to talk to her. I have to talk to her. Please, _please_ let her not be so angry that she won't even listen to me. _Please_. I can't lose her again. I can't.

Even though I haven't been to her house in years, I know exactly which one it is. To my surprise, all the light are off. That's strange. Weren't they all on earlier?

I race up the steps to her door and ring the doorbell. I can hear it echoing inside the house.

Nobody answers.

I press it again, desperate. Again, no answer.

_Please, Sakura_, I think deliriously as I press the doorbell. _Answer the door_.

But she doesn't. And I don't blame her. _I_ wouldn't open the door for me if I was her. But – but she has to listen to me. She's got to know that it was all just a stupid mistake and I'm _so sorry_ about everything – _everything_ I've done since.

"Sakura!" I call out, knocking on the door loudly. "Sakura, it's me! It's Syaoran! Please, I've _got_ to talk to you! Listen to me, please!"

There's no sound. Panic rises within me. Kami, have I lost her again? Images of young Sakura rise in my mind and I stifle a cry. I can't lose her. I can't.

"Sakura, open up!" I call again, louder. I ring the doorbell repeatedly. "There's something I have to tell you! I know you're angry at me but _please_! Listen to me for two minutes, just _two minutes_! And then you can hate me for as long as you want and I promise I won't mind. Please, Sakura!"

I wait with bated breath, hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe she'll answer the door.

But she doesn't and I pound on the door again, harder.

"I won't leave until you listen to me!" I holler. "Sakura, open the door!"

I hear something shuffling behind the door. I freeze, holding my breath.

The door swings open. I squint. It's dark inside. Am I supposed to come in or is she coming out to me?

"Sakura?" I ask, my voice losing its hysterical edge.

"Not quite," replies a voice I haven't heard in years. "But get in here before you make yourself look even more like an idiot."

The insult doesn't even register as I cross into the household and the door swings shut behind me.

It's pitch black inside the house. All the lights are switched off and I feel my senses tingling. I sense something powerful, lingering just inches before me. And it's not Sakura either, which means it must be...

A light switches on, blinding me momentarily.

"It's been a long time," says the same deep male voice. I detect scorn and a definite dash of dislike in its tone before I open my eyes and whirl around.

There's a giant armoured lion seated before me, and its hackles are raised.

"Keroberos," I greet him vaguely, wondering whether Sakura's sent him to fry me up in punishment.

He regards me stonily, his eyes scanning me critically and contemptuously.

"What are you doing here?" he asks eventually.

"I'm here to talk to Sakura," I answer immediately, my wariness vanishing instantaneously. "I – we – she has to know something -"

"And what makes you think she wants to listen to you, of all people?" Keroberos asks me, narrowing his eyes.

_Shit. She's that mad at me?_

"She has to," I insist, and he scoffs a little. "No, you don't understand. I have to tell her that – that I was wrong. I made a huge mistake."

"About time you realized," he observes, rather serenely as he crosses his paws before him and closes his eyes.

"Don't rub it in," I mutter, looking around me. The house is partly in a mess and it's still pitch black. "Where is everyone?"

"That," Keroberos says in a gruff voice, "is none of your business."

"But-"

"What do you think of yourself?" Keroberos demands, his eyes snapping open fiercely. "You may be descended from Clow Reed, but you have no right to such arrogance. My mistress has been under terrible strain of late and if she chooses not to confide in you, then you should consider it an indication to stay out of her life – not the opposite."

I hang my head, biting my lip.

"I know," I say eventually. "I don't deserve to know, I know but – _Kami_, I don't even know what I was thinking -"

"You weren't thinking at all," Keroberos admonishes in his deep rumbling voice.

"That too," I concede, deliberate in my tirade against myself. "Listen, I was an idiot – I was stupid, insensitive and arrogant – but I want to make it up to her. I mean it, Kero."

He regards me for a few long moments, and I can feel my heart thumping painfully in my chest.

"She's not here," he says finally, and I let my breath out in a sharp exhale. I didn't even know I'd been holding my breath for so long.

"She isn't?" I ask sharply. "Then where is she? She should've been home by now -"

Worry settles over my head: if anything happens to her, it'll be my fault. All my fault.

"She is not in any harm," Keroberos interrupts my panicked flow of thought. "But I cannot tell you anymore than that."

"Please," I say desperately. It's the closest to begging I will ever get.

His somber eyes meet mine and for a good minute, we just stare at each other. It would almost be a staring content, except those are for amateur negotiators.

At long last, he speaks.

"She jumped out the window and went west," he says vaguely.

And that's the best I got out of him.

-

**Sakura's POV**

**-**

I've been in the hospital so many times before. But a moment like this – I don't think I've felt anything like it since before the eleventh grade started.

I was supposed to go to the Nadeshiko festival with Tomoyo and the rest. I remember being so excited, as usual. I'd chosen which kimono I wanted to wear, which shoes I'd wear with it, how I'd do my hair differently because I was growing it out...

And then all of a sudden, Touya's panicked voice echoing up the stairwell. My heart stopping for a moment, maybe two, before racing down into the kitchen and seeing Touya kneeling on the ground with my father listless and barely conscious in his arms.

The world seemed to close in on me that day. I remember that stifling feeling, the first time I'd been in an ambulance. The medics hovering over my dad, always so strong and so happy, now weak and fragile like a petal on the breeze. Hearing words that were unfamiliar, but spoken in such urgent, clipped tones, they filled me with dread and despair. Worst of all, the waiting. Waiting on the sidelines, watching the masked and robed paramedics struggle to keep him alive. Waiting outside the ICU, with the red light perpetually lit and the only news from the breathless doctors being no news. Waiting by Dad's hospital bedside for the anaesthetics and tranquilizers to release their hold on him and watch him regain consciousness...

I remember that day so clearly, because it was the day my life changed. Of course I had dealt with loss and fear and imminent doom during my days of card-capturing, but it was a different fear that gripped my heart when the doctors told Touya and I that my beloved Otou-san had leukemia and needed to be transferred to a hospital in Tokyo to undergo therapy.

Those six weeks in Tokyo...they were worse than a nightmare. Because nightmares, no matter how terrifying or how long, are never real. They're just figments of the imagination, fated to span the length of one night. And once they're over, a person can sigh and think to themselves, _thank Kami-sama it wasn't real_. But those weeks in Tokyo, that week in Tomoeda's hospital...they were as real as I was. The fact that my dad, my only remaining parent, was dying was not just a figment of my imagination. It was real. And I don't know how Touya and I pulled through, growing accustomed to ignoring that small whispering voice that hissed in our ears, _he's dying, he's dying_, every time we looked at Dad through the hospital windows.

I didn't think he would ever come so close to danger again, not since he underwent a marrow transplant a little over a year ago, a few months after we returned from Tokyo. But now, standing in the atrium of Tomoeda Hospital and waiting for the receptionist to direct me to Dad's unit, I feel like the nightmare has come alive again and I'm slipping through the cracks into the chasm once more.

"Kinomoto Fujitaka," the receptionist reads off a computer screen. "ICU. They're in the process of moving him into the operation theatre."

Stifling my gasp of panic, I thank her hurriedly and race up the stairwell, all nine flights to where the cardiology department's operation theatre is. In the wide hall, lit by successive fluorescent tubelights, doctors and nurses clad in cerulean blue and teal green mill about in stark contrast against the whitewashed walls, making me feel very dizzy. I sight someone sprawled on one of the plush-backed seats in the waiting area, his dark-haired head buried in his hands. Touya.

I push and shove through the through of doctors, until I've tripped over my own feet and caught my Onii-chan's attention. He doesn't ask me where I've been or why I wasn't home when it happened. He just looks at me, and his dark eyes are anguished and terrified, and it hurts so much to see my big brother and protector reduced to this state. I pull him close to me, and his arms wrap around my shoulders tightly. I bury my head into his solid chest and I let myself cry there, in the shelter of my big brother's arms. And I pretend not to notice the shaking convulsions that grip his body, pretend not to notice the growing moisture gathering on my shoulders, where he's pressed his face so that no one can see his tears. But I feel them. And he feels mine. At this moment, it could just be the two of us, bound by blood and, even stronger, this tearing, searing, twisting grief.

"Will he live?" I try to ask, in between violent hiccups and sobs. My voice is thick because my tongue feels dry and swollen; I can't even understand what I'm saying anymore.

"I don't know," Touya answers. His voice is quiet, like a strangled whisper. And he takes a deep, shuddering breath in.

Time passes. I don't know how much time. Waiting rooms seem to be in a time warp. Hours pass by in a span of seconds, while second hands tick slower than minute hands. It's all one giant, confused mess.

"What are they doing to him?" I ask in a small voice, thinking of the doctors with scalpels and scissors and pointed probes. I remember dissecting pigs last year in biology. I remember cutting open its abdomen and peeling its heart out of its body. In sick punctuation to my thoughts, I vividly hear the shattering noise of bone crunching as I cracked the ribs back in order to expose the pericardial sac -

_Urgh._ I think I'm going to be sick.

It must have been hours since Dad was admitted here, and still the red light is lit above the operation theatre doors. Touya and I both feel exhausted and empty, but neither of us can even think of eating or sleeping. My mouth and the back of my throat are parched, but I don't want water. I don't want sustenance. All I want is news. Kami-sama, is that too much to ask for?

-

**Syaoran's POV**

-

_She jumped out the window and went west_.

Thanks Keroberos. That is a _great_ and helpful hint.

Not.

After stepping out the door feeling highly disgruntled, I decide to pounce on his words. What was west of Sakura's house? The street? A convenience store? A patch of trees? I sigh, jamming my hands into my pockets and start to walk westward.

By the way, Tomoeda is deserted at this time of night.

After walking aimlessly for about an hour, and stopping only when progress onward was physically impossible (i.e. a giant river cut across my way of passage), I tell myself that I have to approach this carefully. Keroberos _is_ a guardian beast, and he doesn't like me much. He won't make this too easy for me.

I race home as fast as I can. I don't bother entering through the main gate or waking up any of the servants (or Meiling, who sleeps with one ear open). I slip in through the window and tiptoe into my bedroom.

_Now, where in Tomoeda would Sakura be right now?_

The answer comes to me in an instant.

Get a map.

Of course. That would make things a bit easier for me, wouldn't it?

Man, Syaoran. Where is your fabled brainpower?

I turn on my PC and wait impatiently for it to load. Now that I'm in a rush, it seems to take twice as much time as usual for the desktop to appear. The universe truly does work against me. Humph.

I open an Internet browser and call up a detailed map of Tomoeda. Finally, when the image finishes loading, I examine it closely.

I see where Sakura's house is, just a street south of mine. I trace a line from it in a westward direction, noting any major landmarks that come in the way. But the only significant thing that comes in the way is the commercial district. And why would Sakura go shopping at this hour?

_Maybe she's at someone's house_.

There are a couple of residential neighbourhoods west of her house, but as far as I know, nobody at Seijou lives there. I rack my brain, thinking of all the people Sakura could have visited. Tomoyo is at the top of my list. But she lives north of us.

Tarou? Shit, would Sakura visit him at this time of night? It's almost one in the morning, for crying out loud! I think Yoko once mentioned where he lived – around the tourist district, near the Ookawa line. That, according to the map, is a good fifteen minutes southeast of her home.

I think of various people she could have visited, my mind conjuring up names with alarming accuracy. Chiharu, Naoko, Rika, Yamazaki...

None of them live west of her.

I close my eyes, trying to focus. Where could she be?

Did Keroberos give me a valid hint, even? Or did he just spout a bunch of nonsense, just to get rid of me?

Now that I think about it, that makes more sense...

The next thing I know, my head is on my desk and my hand is asleep. I realize I've dozed off at the computer and it's almost two in the morning.

_Shit_.

Way to go for wasting time.

I grab the mouse and wave it around frantically, getting rid of the screensaver that's been playing away on the monitor. The image of the map comes back into view.

I'm examining it with narrowed eyes when, all of a sudden, the image shifts.

I blink and realize that I've pressed the left arrow key with my elbow by accident. Then, almost without thinking, I press the left arrow button feverishly again.

The map pans in a westward direction, showing areas just outside of Tomoeda.

_This is it_, I think to myself as my eyes fix upon a small red cross, barely visible in the corner of the map. I click on a tiny magnifying glass and the image zooms into sharper relief.

Directly west of Sakura's home, just on the outskirts of the town, is the general hospital.

I freeze, as the events of the evening play out before me.

Sakura, focusing on the lights in her house. Getting there, not twenty minutes later and finding the house deserted. Pitch black. In a bit of a mess.

Keroberos in his guardian form, refusing to tell me any more of her whereabouts.

_She jumped out the window and went west_.

Unbelievable, I think to myself as I reach for my amulet and summon my magic. I open my window and jump, rooftop to rooftop, in a westward direction.

Kero wasn't lying.

But as I get closer to the hospital, other thoughts begin to plague me.

Why would they all be in the hospital? Did Sakura get hurt? Did anyone in her family get hurt? Why were they all there and why weren't they back home yet? How serious was their situation?

Worst of all, what if I found Sakura in the middle of something, well, _private_? Something she'd rather I not see?

What if she thinks that I'm intruding again? She already hates me...

I shake myself free of these thoughts as I land in front of the large, clean institution and walk inside. I'll have to trust myself to handle things properly. I've bungled things up too badly; it's time I fixed this mess once and for all.

With this thought in mind, I approach the receptionist and, taking a deep breath and steeling my courage, ask whether any Kinomotos have visited the premises.

"I'm sorry," the woman tells me apologetically. "The visitor list is strictly confidential."

Praying for once that my hunch is incorrect, I ask her whether any Kinomotos are admitted in the medical facilities.

"Let me check," the receptionist says, typing away at the computer in front of her. Around me, the soft murmur of people walking into and out of the atrium forms a buzzing drone that threatens to lull me to sleep.

"There's a Kinomoto Yuri in pediatrics," the receptionist says finally.

Kinomoto Yuri? I've never heard of her and I don't think Sakura has any relatives named Yuri. I shake my head.

"There's also a Kinomoto Ito, who checked out this afternoon," the receptionist reads.

I shake my head again.

"Mm..." the receptionist muses, clicking on something else and staring at the screen for a few moments before saying, "And there was a Kinomoto Fujitaka who was in intensive care earlier this evening."

_Kinomoto Fujitaka..._

Sakura's father.

That means – oh _no_...

"Where is he now?" I force myself to ask, my voice sounding weak and brittle. Memories of Sakura's father, that kind, guileless man, swirl around in my head. Please, _please_ don't tell me that he's expired, _please_ tell me he's in stable condition...

"He's in the cardiology department," the receptionist says. "Ninth floor, west wing."

"Thanks," I stammer, rushing off to the staircase. I don't feel comfortable in an elevator right now. The small enclosed space would really make me feel as though the walls are closing in about me. I can't describe the feelings within me, and I know they must be nothing compared to what she feels.

And all I could think of was my petty jealousy, my trivial little complaints about Sakura and why she couldn't wait for me. I'd been so wrapped up about myself, I'd completely missed out about her family life and _shit_, I'd even suspected that something was wrong, too...!

I round the landing of the ninth floor and turn into the hallway. Just as I pass a room, soft voices catch my ear and I halt in my steps.

"...isn't there any way you can continue?" a shaking female voice – _Sakura's_ voice! - is asking.

"I'm sorry," answers a kindly but unfamiliar male voice, older and smoother. "The patient's medical history requires a specialized surgical process, and unless our surgeons receive the down payment up front, they cannot continue with this procedure. I understand your situation, Kinomoto-san, but administration regulations being what they are..."

"But he'll die!" chokes Sakura's voice hysterically, and to my horror, I realize that she's sobbing. "He's going to die and all you care about is the money!"

"Kinomoto-san, please calm down -"

"Where are we supposed to get fifty thousand yen _liquid_ from, and in such a short time?" Sakura demands, and her voice is cracking with anger and despair. "My dad hasn't been able to work full-time in over a year, and we can barely cover our insurance payments! My _brother_ is just a student, and I'm just a minor – we don't have the resources to – doesn't the hospital have an emergency fund set up for this?!"

"Would you like me to get in touch with your insurance company?" asks the male voice, very evenly and very kindly. "Maybe they'll be able to work out an arrangement -"

"You _know_ that he has leukemia!" Sakura cries, and I freeze. _What?_ "It's been difficult enough managing his medicine and his therapy _and_ that transplant he had last year!"

_Fuck_.

"I'm sorry, miss," the male voice says, damning in its helpless sombreness. "It's the rule, there's really not much else we can do for him..."

"You don't care." Sakura's voice is vicious in its vehemence and I feel shivers running all over me. "You don't care if he lives or dies. All you care about are your bureaucratic loopholes!"

And without another coherent word, I hear her jump to her feet. I move out of the doorway as the door opens with a resounding bang. I see her race out of the room and down the hallway, shoulders shaking in grief and one hand wiping her face fruitlessly.

I can't move. I can't think. I can't do anything except dwell upon what I've just heard.

Tomoyo was right. Something _terrible_ had happened to Sakura. Something that she didn't deserve.

Her father...had leukemia. He was dying.

_Kami_.

And I hadn't been there for her, because I'd been _such_ a blind, immature fool. Hoping that she'd been the same since I left her, never realizing the hell that she went through every single day...

The conversation between her and her brother the week she broke her ankle – no _wonder_ she didn't want to visit the doctor! And I thought she was just being a bitch...

_You couldn't understand_... her voice whispers in my head, and I feel my heart shattering. Because she was right.

I just couldn't understand her.

I've never felt so small or so incompetent in my _life_. How could I have been so close-minded? Now things have escalated so badly that Sakura's father is dying, and there isn't a bloody thing I can do about it.

I turn away when an idea strikes me.

Sakura may be angry at me, but she needs me right now. She needs me to help her. I can't turn my back on her, because I'll never be able to forgive myself if Kinomoto-san dies.

After making sure that Sakura is out of sight and out of earshot, I walk into the small room. It's a small office and seated behind the desk is a harried-looking man. The department administrator, I realize. He glances at me tiredly, and a weary smile slips onto his mouth.

"Can I help you, young man?" he asks me, in a voice that gives away how exhausted he is. It _is_, after all, half past two in the morning.

"That girl who was just here," I say, my heart beating painfully fast somewhere close to my neck, "that girl whose father needed surgery -"

"Yes?" the administrator asks, straightening in his seat slightly.

I take a quick glance at the door, making sure no one is in the vicinity, before taking a seat directly across from the man.

"I want to pay for her father's treatment here," I say in a quiet voice, softly but firmly. "The down payment for the surgery, the surgeons' fees, everything. I don't want her – them – to go through any more troubles than they already do."

The administrator's eyes widen behind his spectacles. After clearing his throat gently, he gives me a kind smile.

"That's very generous of you, young man," he says. "Unfortunately, you're talking about _quite_ a large sum of money – possibly upward of eighty, ninety, maybe one hundred thousand yen -"

"I'll pay it," I say without a moment's hesitation. I reach into my pocket for my wallet, and pull out the access card to my platinum deposit sitting in Hong Kong, one of the several lying around in my name that I've never, ever had cause to use. "Any charge you ring up, you bill it to this number directly, do you understand?"

His eyes widen as he takes the shiny red card from my hand with shaking fingers.

"We – I -" he stammers, clearly never having confronted a minor with such a large resource of wealth at his disposal before. "Do you have any identification with you, uh -" he glances at the name emblazoned on the card, "Li-sama?"

_From 'young man' to Li-sama in thirty seconds flat. Hah. Not bad._

I pull out my wallet, throwing down my passport, my birth certificate, my driver's license, my student ID card...

"Thank you," the administrator cuts me off. "I believe that will suffice. Um, you will be required to sign a few documents – or your guardian, rather...?"

"I'm here alone," I say to him, adopting the cold powerful voice I use when addressing the Elders in Hong Kong. "My guardians are in another country, and I manage my own money. So unless you want to fly out and get their signatures...?"

He shakes his head quickly, assuring me that it won't be necessary.

"Good," I say pointedly. "Now, get those surgeons moving. I wouldn't want to pay all this money and find out that the girl's father di – didn't survive."

Fuck. I hate myself for manipulating this man so easily, and even more for sounding like such a cold, arrogant bastard. But it's for a good cause, and if it can save Kinomoto-san's life...if it can make it up to Sakura in any way, then it'll be enough. Please let it be enough.

The admistrator gets up and races out the room before I can blink twice. I hear hurried instructions being muttered and the sound of urgent footfalls echoing across the hallway.

In record time, the administrator is back, clutching several sheets of legal-size paper in his hands. He lays them on the desk in front of me.

"You'll have to sign these," he says to me, breathless and still in shock.

I pore over the documents quickly, scribbling my signature over twelve dotted lines.

"One condition," I say, sliding the papers over to the man's side of the desk. "Keep this anonymous, okay? Don't tell her my name – and especially don't tell her brother either."

The administrator gives me a funny look.

"But what if she insists?" he asks absently.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

"Well, if she absolutely insists on knowing, just give her this."

And I place something on the desk, before heading out the door, the first true smile I've smiled in a _long_ time spreading across my face.

-

**Sakura's POV**

-

By the time I finish crying my eyes out in the girl's washroom and come out into the waiting room, I see a flurry of activity going on in the operation theatre. The red light is illuminated, glowing brightly against the white wall.

_What...?_

An intern walks out of the theatre, and I stop her.

"What's going on?" I ask, my voice hoarse from crying so much.

"We're administering the sedatives," she informs me. "And then going ahead with the procedure."

And she careens off down the hallway, leaving me standing here in shock.

_They're going ahead with the procedure?_

_How?_

I see Touya, slumped over the seats, his eyes closed. Rushing to him, I shake his shoulder gently.

"Onii-chan!"

He wakes up, staring at me through bleary eyes.

"What's going on?" he asks thickly.

"Where'd you get all the money from?" I ask urgently.

He instantly becomes alert.

"Money? What money?" he asks, frowning.

"For the surgery!" I tell him. "Touya – they're operating on him! Look!"

And I point to the operation theatre and the glowing red light above it.

"But how?" Touya asks, open-mouthed. "We didn't pay the down payment – Sakura, did you do anything?"

I open and close my mouth, wondering whether my tears had affected the department administrator in any way...

"I asked them for some time?" I suggest tentatively. "Really nicely?"

"Did you cry?" Touya asks sharply, noting my swollen red eyes.

I don't answer.

He groans.

"Works every time," he mutters, before closing his eyes and going back to sleep, visibly more relaxed. I watch him for a moment, and then I glance at the operation theatre door, hope bubbling in my chest. The dark cloud of worry that had oppressed me for the whole evening had dissipated somewhat.

_It's okay, Sakura. He's going to be okay_...

But I have to get to the bottom of the mystery, even if Touya was too tired or grateful to figure it out. What prompted the administrator to change his mind and go ahead with the procedure, breaking one of his precious rules in the process?

Was he truly that moved by my tears?

I walk slowly to the end of the hallway, entering the office in a daze. How long has it been since I was in here, begging the man to save my father's life? How much time does it take for a man to grow a conscience?

"Ah, Kinomoto-san!" the administrator says to me brightly as he sees me. "I hope everything is all right for you now that the surgeons are working to keep your father out of danger?"

I try to speak, and after a moment, I find my voice.

"Thank you," I whisper. "Thank you for listening to me and for – for giving him another chance."

He tilts his head to the side.

"What do you mean?" he asks, unable to stifle a small smile.

"You know," I say. "Going ahead with the procedure, even without the down payment?"

His eyes widen.

"_Without_ the down payment?" he asks incredulously. "Kinomoto-san, your father's treatment has been paid for in full amount. That's why your father is being treated right now."

My jaw drops.

"What?" I ask, unable to believe it. So Touya _did_ manage to get the money! But how? And why wouldn't he tell me?

"Yes, I know," the administrator says, beckoning me to take a seat, and I do. "You're very lucky to have received such a generous donor with such resources at his disposal -"

"Wait," I say, narrowing my eyes. "Generous _donor_?"

"Why, of course," he says disarmingly. "He came in just moments after you left, and insisted that he pay for everything. What else was I supposed to do? I was feeling guilty after all, and your father was fading away..."

"Who was it?" I ask, my eyes widening. I never believed that anyone could be so generous or compassionate, until now. Who could have possibly found it within themselves to part with so much money, for _our_ sakes? Nobody even knows that Dad's in the hospital! So then, who...?

"He absolutely insisted that he remain anonymous," the administrator says with a sigh. "But, I think some things were meant to be shared between friends."

_What?_

He reaches down, and pulls out a blank manila folder, which he gives to me.

"He left this for you," he offers with a quick smile, before getting up and leaving the room.

Curiosity pounding away within me, I hold my breath and open the folder.

And lying harmlessly inside, in stark contrast against the creamy manila paper, is a long pink rectangle.

The Fight card.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** CSS is CLAMP's, everything unfamiliar and therefore worth no money or compensation whatsoever belongs to poor, penniless me. xD

**a/n:** Well, I think that was dramatic and soap opera-y enough for all of you. It actually turned out a lot longer than I'd expected it to. Hm.

And I hope you all stop hating on Syaoran now! **-glare-**

Oops, in all the excitement, we completely forgot about why Fight went psycho. Ah, never mind. Now that Fujitaka's okay and SxS are practically reconciled, we can finally MOVE ON. Yes...

Okay so, um, things are getting crazy at school and new semester starts tomorrow! Which means I'm three months away from exams and six weeks away from my next major break (and less than twenty four hours away from the biggest academic crunch I will have ever experienced to date). _Meaning_ that updates before March break are unlikely at best (yes, I'm sorry but that's the way the cookie crumbles). Just thought I'd give a heads-up about that.

Anyway, I posted a poll up at my profile. If you really, really want a certain fic to be updated next, please vote on it. I can promise one update on one fic in mid-March, at least. Which fic it is all depends on you. If I'm feeling particularly productive (a.k.a. lazy IRL), I may churn out an update for two. May. No guarantee, though.

Ah, me exhausted...

**Next Chapter:** SxS are reconciled! Like, finally! Yayay! Read it and more in the next chapter, _Lithium_.

**Please do review! I'm trying to maintain 30 reviews a chapter. Think you love me enough to do it for me?**

**:D**

**-_Celestiana_**


	9. Lithium

_**Literary..**_

_**-**_

**Summary: **Sakura is a famous fanfiction author. Syaoran is the best beta she's ever had. They share a world made of the words and tales they weave and write. But they don't know that they know each other...in real life.

_**-**_

**Full Summary: **He promised he'd come back for her. She promised to wait for him. But a misunderstanding creates a giant rift between Sakura and Syaoran, enough to break the powerful friendship they once shared. To escape fate's blows, Sakura seeks solace in fanfiction and soon becomes a famous author on the busy _Fanfiction Corner, _under the alias Sayuri. She's lucky enough to meet Lang, and he becomes her greatest fan, faithful beta, and online buddy/soulmate. Wait until she finds out that "Lang" is really Syaoran, the cause of all her troubles...

**-**

**a/n: **I feel almost embarrassed to be updating this after such a ridiculous amount of time. I'd almost forgotten what I'd wanted to do with this. As a result, this has less to do with the actual plot of the fic, and more...of what you people prooobablyyyyyy have been waiting to read. Ahem.

Certain souring experiences over the past year have made writing fluff incredibly difficult. But I tried my best. And I'm not fond of the dialogue. But whatever. It's here.

Immeasurable thanks of an exponential order go to you lovely readers and reviewers. Your comments have egged me on to continue writing this, in spite of a million obstacles posed by real life and the likes.

Happy reading!

* * *

Chapter Eight. Lithium

-

**Sakura's POV**

-

"...and you should really avoid this shade of orange because it clashes with your hair, but _this_ one is good for you because it complements your skin really nicely, and while I've never been a real big fan of mixing orange and green, I just _have_ to show you what'll happen if you put this orange with, say, this really nice green right here..."

I contain a small yelp as Tomoyo holds a flowing orange shirt thing against my front, and dangles a mass of glistening emerald beads around my neck.

"See? Doesn't it look great on Sakura-chan?" Tomoyo quips with a smile.

"Um, I guess..." I stutter. I gaze at my reflection in the mirror, and while I'm sure the outfit Tomoyo's picked out for me is beautiful as always, I'm more taken in by the way my face looks. I mean, the girl staring back at me in the mirror looks so...so...

_Exhausted_.

"Try it on!" Tomoyo urges me eagerly. "I want to see it on you!"

"Um," I say uncertainly again, as she guides me to one of the fitting rooms. "Okay..."

It's easy being submissive for once. And right now, when everything seems so heightened and confusing, a bit of mindless activity seems to be the best cure. What better solution than shopping with Tomoyo?

I frown as I slip off my plain white blouse and struggle to put on the satiny, flowing, complicated orange shirt (oh, what ridiculous things designers come up with in the name of fashion! Just how many holes are there in this thing anyway?), and then open my door once it's all tied into place.

Tomoyo nearly goes starry-eyed.

"_Kawaii_!" she breathes, in that same high-pitched squeal that she miraculously hasn't outgrown yet.

I laugh uncertainly. The abrupt jolt back to a shred of normalcy is quite jarring, really. I haven't gone shopping for leisure in such a long time...

"You should take it, Sakura-chan!" Tomoyo says, her eyes pleading. "It looks _wonderful_ on you!"

"Erm..." I struggle, caught off guard. It's one thing to try things on randomly, but another to actually buy something. Plus, everything in this store is _so_ overpriced, and how am I supposed to afford these _luxuries_? Dad is recovering in the hospital still, and Touya's there with him, and there's no movement of income into my home, even _if_, miraculously, all our medical expenses were paid for – don't want to think about all that right now.

I sigh.

"Tomoyo-chan, don't you think it's a bit, um, overpriced?" I suggest tentatively.

Tomoyo's face falls as she glances at the price tag on my shirt, and raises an eyebrow.

"It's not _that_ bad," she starts, and then her eyes meet my face. I must have gone white or something, because she changes her tack almost immediately. "Well, never mind then. I can probably make something for you that looks even better. Now that you think about it, I want to raise that neckline a bit, and the hemming's done a bit funny on this end..."

She goes on and on, intoning her improvements on the shirt I'm wearing for about an hour, it seems. It's not unpleasant, actually. I can just stand here, not having to think about anything, not having to dwell on or worry about anything.

"Well, you can go change out of that one, then," Tomoyo says to me finally. "Then, I've got a surprise for you!"

"You do?" I ask, wincing a little. One, Tomoyo's "surprises" are usually something to be wary of and two, do I even deserve anything from her now, considering that I haven't been the world's greatest friend for quite a while now?

She pushes me back into the fitting room, telling me to hurry up, we don't have all day!

Unbidden, a small smile escapes to my lips. Against my instincts, I wasn't having a bad time. I mean, sure Tomoyo can be a bit much at times, but underneath it all, she's really nice and sensitive and...I just missed having her around, I guess.

Cutting yourself off from all humanity can be a bit of a stupid move, in some respects.

I walk out of the fitting room. Tomoyo takes the shirt from me and replaces it on the rack (kind, courteous, polite as always), and then we walk out of the store into the corridors of the crowded shopping centre.

"Let's go!" Tomoyo tells me.

"Go where?" I ask, but she doesn't answer. She just leads me around the mall. We pass about twenty stores before she pauses at one that I've never seen before.

"Look at that," she says with a crafty grin.

I glance at the small store. It isn't even fully stocked yet. According to the sign plastered on the display window, it's due for opening tomorrow. The name hasn't even been fully installed in flashing fluorescent lights yet.

"What about it?" I ask, more than a little perplexed.

Tomoyo smiles.

"Let's go find out," she says to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the store.

The scent of freshly laid paint hits my nose. I look around me. The store's almost laid into its foundations – the lighting is set, the shelves and racks are set up, the counters and registers are being pulled into place...

"Hang on," I say, slowing in my tracks. My eyes fall upon a mannequin, sporting a very familiar pink hat, a very familiar pink-and-white dress and even more familiar pink shoes.

"I used to wear those in my Card-capturing..." I pause, and then turn to Tomoyo. "Tomoyo, that outfit – that's your design!"

"Yup," Tomoyo nods, smiling. "I cut a deal with the owner of the store. I'm designing a portion of the clothes that they sell here, as you can see. Isn't it amazing?"

My mouth drops.

"You're – you're becoming a designer?" I ask her, my mouth breaking into a smile. "For real? Does Sonomi-san know yet?"

Tomoyo blushes.

"Well, um, it's not _quite_ being a proper designer just yet," she corrects me. "But I _do_ get my own tag – see here?"

She pulls the tag on the pink-and-white dress and shows me the back. Soft lavender blossoms scattered on a white background, with shimmering gold lettering spelling out _Tomoyo D..._

I'm honestly speechless.

"And as for Okaa-san," Tomoyo says hesitantly, "she knows that I got an offer for my designing work. I didn't tell her just how much work it's going to be for me, or how involved I am with this project, but, she does know about it."

"She approves, though?" I ask.

Tomoyo's face darkens.

"Well, she doesn't _disapprove_, at least," she says, a light twinkle in her eyes belying the seriousness of her words. "Come on, Sakura-chan. I kept something on hold here, just for you."

My eyes widen.

"Huh?" is all I manage to get out, before Tomoyo drags me to the back of the store.

"Wait here," she tells me before disappearing into the storage room.

_Um..._is all I can think of. What's Tomoyo doing? Or, more importantly, why is she doing all this for me?

She returns with a brown cardboard box in her hands.

"Now, before you have the time to come up with a thousand ways to say no, I want you to have this," Tomoyo says, presing the box into my palms.

"I-"

Tomoyo gives me a gentle smile.

"Think of it as a really early Christmas gift from me," she says.

I take the hint and peel the top off the box. Inside, I see a mass of folded satiny material, in a soft pastel green.

"I still have to make a few final adjustments," Tomoyo says to me. "Mind if I did them right now?"

I gape at her before relenting.

"Sure," I say. "Um, where are the fitting rooms?"

Tomoyo points to them, and I go inside and change. As I step out and stand in front of a full-length mirror, Tomoyo comes behind me and starts pinning it. I'm reminded instantly of my childhood, of the adventures we used to have. Unbidden, memories surface: of getting dressed before capturing Cards, of going to festivals and parties, of performing in plays onstage...

Life wasn't nearly so complicated back then. What would I give right now to go back – to be a kid again...

"Done!" Tomoyo announces, breaking through my reverie. She looks at my reflection in the mirror, satisfied with her handiwork. "It suits you so well, Sakura-chan!"

I look at myself in the mirror. I've never seen myself in a dress, well, since I hit puberty, I think. And I don't think I've ever had time to realize just how much I've changed since then. Even Tomoyo's style has changed. The flounces and frills and ruffles are gone. Hanging off my body is a rather extraordinary dress that's casual enough, with a slight twist in the extravagantly-hemmed neckline and elaborately tailored skirt.

It's an upgrade from the giant sweaters and boot-cut jeans that I've been wearing for the last couple of years. As a matter of fact, I think it's the prettiest thing I've worn in a _long_ time.

And, dangerous as it seems...I kind of like looking pretty again.

"Yeah..." I agree with Tomoyo. "It does."

I tear my gaze away from the mirror to meet Tomoyo's.

"Thank you," I tell her, as sincerely as I can. "Thank you for being here, Tomoyo-chan."

She continues smiling, and puts a hand on my shoulder.

"You're getting emotional," she tells me offhandedly. "Sakura-chan...you've gone through so much, and you've gone through it all alone. I don't know what it is exactly, and I don't want to know unless you're ready to talk about it. But in the meantime...I'm always here. If you need me, that is."

I think I feel tears starting to burn in my eyes.

"I'm sorry," I say to her. "I'm sorry for shutting you out. It's just -"

"When you're ready," Tomoyo interrupts me gently. "Not before then. You don't have to waste your time apologizing or thanking me. Friends don't do that."

She looks at me, and a crafty look passes through her eyes.

"_But..._" she says, quirking an eyebrow. "Since you're bent on settling the score, for whatever reason, you can promise me that you'll stop wearing those horrible sweaters and start letting me dress you like I did when we were younger."

"I promise," I say in a heartbeat. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand noncommittally, and I try to smile.

"Good," Tomoyo says. "You can start by keeping that dress on all day."

I blink.

"What?"

-

"Here we are!" Tomoyo announces. She holds the door of the café open for me. "I guess you've never been here, huh?"

I glance around me, enthralled.

"Nope," I say. "Never."

"Well, _Europa_ just opened a couple of months ago, so I'm not surprised," Tomoyo says to me. "Isn't it boiling in here?"

"Yeah," I say, shrugging off my coat and gloves. The roasted coffee gives the place such a lovely smell, though. Mm...

"Tomoyo-chan!" somebody calls.

Tomoyo turns, to see someone waving at her from a table near the back, next to the fireplace.

"Eriol-kun!" she says, her face lighting up. "Come on, Sakura-chan -"

And she pulls me to the back of the crowded café. Sitting on the high-legged stools around the small wooden table is Eriol, who takes his eyes off of Tomoyo to glance at me and then -

"Li-kun, you're here too?" Tomoyo asks, her smile growing wider.

I stop in my tracks, frozen momentarily.

_No. Not here. Not now..._I plead inwardly.

But sitting on the chair next to Eriol, resplendent in his dark, brooding glory, is Syaoran himself.

Oh no.

Is it too late to turn around?

He looks up, first at Tomoyo and then, almost as if in a trance, his amber gaze slowly shifts onto me.

I feel petrified as I stare into his eyes. My face is probably turning red. Alarmingly so.

"Sakura-chan! Is that you?" Eriol asks, his voice seeming to come from a great distance.

I hastily tear my gaze from Syaoran's and, with relief, look at Eriol instead.

"H-hai," I stutter, feeling awkward and tongue-tied.

Eriol's eyes twinkle a bit.

"Well, it seems like I haven't seen you in quite some time," he says warmly. "Oh, sit down. Those chairs are unoccupied."

Tomoyo obliges, seating herself next to Eriol. Which leaves me to sit down, surprise surprise, next to Syaoran. My knees bump into his as I pull the chair in.

"Gomen," I say automatically, keeping my eyes trained on the wooden table in front of me.

How embarrassing!

Granted, the last time I saw him was at his house, during that horrible, horrible fight...oh, I don't even want to think about it. But then – considering that he is, in most likelihood, the "anonymous donor" who paid for _all_ of Dad's treatment – not just the surgery, but even the follow-up treatment – _Kami_, how can I show my face to him?

I even slapped him!

"Do you want anything?" Tomoyo asks me.

"Huh?" I ask.

Tomoyo points at the handwritten menu posted against the wall.

"Uhm..." I flounder a little bit, suddenly unable to process anything. "I'll take whatever you'll take."

"Sounds good," she says, grinning. "It's so nice to have Sakura-chan back with us!"

And she slides off her chair and goes to stand in line. Leaving the three of us sitting silently at the table.

The tension in the air is tangible.

Eriol smirks a little as his keen eyes land on me and then travel onto Syaoran.

"Well, I think I want seconds," he says smoothly. "I'll be right back."

And before Syaoran or I can say a word, he gets up and joins Tomoyo at the end of the line that stretches across the _entire length_ of the whole store!

Now you can literally cut the tension in the air with a knife.

Awkward.

I mean, I have no idea what to say to him. Am I supposed to apologize for slapping him earlier, or do I thank him for saving my dad's life, or should I ask him how he found out about my dad's surgery? Wait – how long has he known about, well, Dad's condition? How much does he know about me, exactly? When he confronted me in his room and I accused him of not understanding...did he actually understand? Was he just testing me?

Worse, what if he's still angry at me?

"You look nice."

The maelstrom of frantic thoughts flurrying in my head freezes. For a moment, I think I imagined the words. But when I chance to lift my gaze to meet Syaoran's, I see that he's looking right at me.

"What?" I let slip, without thinking.

Shit. My ears are burning.

"You – um – the dress looks nice," Syaoran says.

Is it just me, or does he sound kind of nervous?

Wait, did he just compliment me?

I think that was definitely a compliment.

My face turns even redder.

"Tomoyo made it," I mumble, at a loss of what to say or do.

I see him nod out of the corner of my eye.

"Not – to say that you don't, uh, look nice in it."

_What?_

I blush intensely.

"Thanks," I say softly.

I seriously doubt that my face can get any redder than it already.

Beside me, Syaoran clears his throat.

Wow. If I didn't know any better, I think he feels about as awkward as I do.

It suddenly hits me, like a beam of clear light. Maybe Kami-sama's sending me a sign. Maybe this is it – the chance to finally confront Syaoran and clear out all the confusion. He doesn't _seem_ angry right now.

And as it is, we've already hit rock bottom. It's not like we can get any worse.

"Listen," I say, just as he lets out a hesitant, "So..."

We both suddenly avert our gazes to our hands.

_Come on, Sakura. Courage. Just a little bit of courage..._

"Did you-?" I start, and then break off. My throat is so constricted, it's causing my voice to rasp and squeak.

I cough a little bit, before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

_Breathe_, I tell myself. It's important to keep breathing.

What do I say? How am I supposed to start? Right away, I know I should thank him, but how do I go about doing that? Opening a conversation with _Thank you for saving my dad's life_ doesn't seem practical, but it _does_ seem appropriate, given the circumstances -

"I'm sorry," Syaoran says abruptly.

I turn to face him slowly. His eyes are downcast, hidden by his thick chestnut bangs. He swallows tentatively and bites his lip.

"For what?" I ask, taken aback.

"You know..." he trails off. He shifts in his seat uncomfortably. "For what happened at my house. And for everything that happened before that."

"Everything that happened -" I repeat unconsciously. Suddenly realizing, I shake my head violently. "Oh, you don't have to – _I_ should be apologizing after all this!"

"No, you shouldn't," Syaoran says, a little more firmly. He inhales sharply and raises his eyes, but doesn't meet mine. "It was all my fault -"

"Don't," I interrupt him, shaking my head again. "You more than made it up -"

"But I should still apologize," Syaoran cuts across my words.

My mouth hangs open, partly in shock.

"But I slapped you!" I say stupidly.

He shakes his head stubbornly.

"Only because I was being an ass and deserved it," he replies.

A long silent pause follows his words, during which we both stare at the wooden surface of the table and collect ourselves.

"You were right," Syaoran says finally. "The day you visited me after I came back – I did shut the door in your face."

His words seem to reverberate weirdly in the empty air.

"But – I promise you, I didn't do it on purpose," he explains. "It was dark and I was tired and – you looked and sounded different. I – didn't know it was you."

It's as though a wave just crashed over my head, leaving me struggling to come to terms with it all.

He didn't know it was me.

He yelled at me and he slammed the door in my face – but he didn't know it was me.

I try to feel relieved or enlightened or happy or _anything_. But that night...it seems so long ago, and the hurt seems so trivial now.

Which is why I can't believe it when I discover that, now, in light of the huge favour that he's done me, it doesn't really matter at all.

"You didn't know it was me," I repeat after him.

He bites his lip again.

"It's a lame excuse, I know, but it's the truth -" he starts.

"I believe you," I say simply. "And I'm sorry for overreacting."

There. It's over and done with. Well, sort of. But at least we're on even ground now.

"But um," Syaoran says to me, suddenly tentative. "I won't pretend that I didn't feel hurt when I found out – but then again, I admit that I'm not really in a position to complain, and if you like someone else, that's fine, you shouldn't hold back for a promise you made when you were ten, because that's just stupid..."

I stare at him blankly as he mutters on, ears turning red.

"What, in the name of Kami-sama, are you talking about?" I ask him, as nicely as my confusion will allow me to.

I wait patiently while he wrestles with himself.

"Well, when I got back, I heard from Meiling that, um, you were going out with – with Yamame," he says quickly. "And that got me kind of angry, because I thought you were going to wait for -"

He halts in mid-sentence, eyes widening.

"Forget I just said that," he says suddenly. "Really, just – just forget that happened."

Feeling much lighter, I feel like laughing. Is that it? He was _mad_ because -?

"Tarou and I are just good friends," I tell him gently.

Syaoran shakes his head dismissively.

"I told you, forget I ever said that," he says absently.

A smile breaks across my lips.

"I mean it," I insist. "Tarou and I – we never went out that way."

Syaoran goes very still, as if finally understanding what I'm trying to say.

"Tarou did ask me out," I confess, feeling as though he has a right to know the truth since it's been eating him up all this time – but who knew? Who knew? "And I said – well, to cut a long story short, he kind of misinterpreted my answer and told all his friends that I'd said yes. But we sorted out that misunderstanding soon and since then, we've just been really good friends."

"He kissed you at your locker, though," Syaoran points out, as though unable to believe what I'm telling him.

My face burns again.

"Oh, um, that," I stutter feebly. "Well, um – I didn't know you noticed – I mean, that's why I did it. I – wanted you and Yoko to see..."

He stares at me, suddenly confused.

"Why?" he asks me incredulously. "Oh – you thought that I – with _Yoko_?"

I hang my head.

"Promise me you'll never mention it if I don't?" I mutter softly.

"Sure," Syaoran says, eager to get off the very embarrassing subject.

We fall into silence again; albeit, a more comfortable silence.

"So – you and Yamame – never really..." Syaoran mutters under his breath.

I sigh. And to think this boy was a bright one, too...

"I have never, ever felt that way about Tarou," I enunciate clearly and firmly. "At a point, I thought I did – but then I figured out that our – relationship, could only ever be purely platonic."

More silence. It seems as though we're round-tabling all of our hurts and grievances, and getting rid of them one by one. Yet, I seem to have danced around the most important part: the fact that Syaoran had – or most likely had – paid for all of Dad's treatment. I have to thank him. I have to.

"Syaoran-kun," I say in a strained voice, and he stiffens. It's the first time I've called him so informally since we were kids.

I swallow, with some difficulty.

"About my father..." I start uncertainly, and I see a slight reaction in his face, carefully controlled. "He – I – I don't know what to say -"

Syaoran turns to face me slowly, his expression showing concern and worry.

"Did you visit the administrator?" he asks, his voice surprisingly neutral.

"I – I did," I answer, choking a little. "And – I was told about the anonymous donor, and I saw the Card you left me, and..."

I trail off helplessly, unable to meet his eyes all of a sudden.

"It was you, wasn't it?" I ask, in a little more than a whisper. My eyes are fixed on his hands, clenched together on the wooden surface of the table.

In the line of my peripheral vision, I see Syaoran incline his head slightly.

"Yes," he answers, in a voice as quiet as mine.

For a minute, all I can hear is the sound of my heart beating, thumping away painfully in my chest. Blood rushes to my ears, my cheeks, my fingers...

"Why?" I press, now meeting his eyes. "I mean – you were – I was – well we were – you know? And – and – Kami-sama, it's a _huge_ amount of money for you to throw away –"

"Sakura-chan," Syaoran interrupts my frantic rambling firmly. "If the money's all you're worried about, then I'll tell you that I don't think that money could have been put to any better use."

"It's not just the money!" I exclaim. "It's just..." I trail off, not knowing how I can ever turn my thoughts into words. _One moment we were worse than strangers, I thought it was over, that it could never get any worse for us. And the next, you held out your hand, saved my dad's life, made the scariest moment of my life go away...without a second thought, you saved me. I don't even know how things changed so quickly, but they did. And now I owe you so much, I owe you my everything, how do I begin to repay you?_

Beside me, Syaoran seems to be at a loss for words too. I can't imagine why though. But at length, he speaks, his voice quiet and hesitant, but very, very serious.

"It was the least I could do," he offers before pausing, chewing his lip uncertainly while thinking of what he wants to say next, and then continuing with, "to make it all up to you."

I gape at him, not fully comprehending what he's just said.

He swallows, closes his eyes and clenches his fists tightly. Then he exhales sharply and his eyes meet mine, dark and broodingly serious.

"I mean it, Sakura-chan," he says forcefully, shockingly forthright with his thoughts for once. "If – if that was what it took to show you just how sorry I am for – for what I made you go through – I mean – you told me how hurt you were by me, at my house and – and –"

"Li-kun –" I breathe, caught off-guard by the sudden stream of apologies running from his mouth, but he continues on, cutting me off before I have a chance to speak.

"I – I had no idea," he babbles on almost vehemently, as though there's something deep within him that was just itching to be let out, and he wouldn't shut up until he'd had his say. "I – I just didn't even realize how much I'd taken you for g – I mean, you were right, I was a shitty friend and I wasn't there for you when you needed me and I made things so much harder for you..."

He pauses to take a deep breath, his eyes never leaving mine.

"But – but I want you to know that things are going to be different," he says slowly, with a sureness in his voice that I'd never heard before. "I – I cleared my head out now and... you don't have to be alone anymore, not if I can –"

"Li-kun!" I exclaim, taken aback by the intense seriousness of his penetrating amber gaze. The expression on his face is dark, formidable almost, but at the same time, there's concern and caring too. And at this time, I knew it wasn't the Li Syaoran, object of my childhood fantasies, who was talking to me. The serious youth sitting before me was capable and authoritative, who could command instant obedience from a single glance, and whose words were a promise, a binding contract.

It seems kind of fanciful of me to imagine this, and maybe its just the writer coming out in me, but I think I see the kind of man Syaoran's going to grow into. I see what seven years' worth of hard training have done to him. He's changed immeasurably. But at the same time, he's still the Syaoran I remember. Just...how much of him remains, I don't know. Yet.

The look in his eyes is fierce but awash with something like desperation. He's trying to say something, and I know it's something that's going to cost him, something that the powerful, invulnerable leader of the Li clan would not want said. But the little boy deep within him is winning the struggle – despite the emotional barriers that he's placed over his heart, this one thing can't be contained much longer.

"I don't want to lose you again," he whispers, his voice barely audible. But I can hear him clearly, maybe because suddenly his face in all its harsh sobriety is very close to mine. Very close. Our noses are almost touching. Maybe he's a little too close -?

My hands clench involuntarily as my entire body stiffens. When he exhales, I can feel warm air on my face. I try to gasp but I can't breathe anymore. There's a rush of blood to my head, to my ears, to my cheeks, so abruptly that I feel dizzy, uncomfortable, hot, almost nauseous –

Abruptly, I move back, so that there's a decent amount of distance between us. My heart is beating erratically, like a mad thing, and I know my face is burning deep red. Somewhere in my airways, a nonexistent lump clears and I find that I can breathe again. Only when my heart rate turns somewhat close to normal and I find that breathing isn't a problem anymore, do I dare look Syaoran in the eye again. But he's looking away too.

I feel like I should say something. But I don't know what.

It strikes me that he's said a fair bit and all, but I haven't even thanked him for saving my dad's life.

I should, though.

I just don't know how.

I mean, how am I supposed to say it? Compared to weight of everything he's just confided to me, anything and everything I can say seems scarce, insubstantial, pretentious almost...

I feel like laughing out loud. Who would have thought that the day's finally arrived where Kinomoto Sakura, penname Sayuri of the _Fanfiction Corner_, finally runs out of words?

Trying to turn the wheels in my mind, I try think of something to say. Trying to phrase it in my mind so that I don't choke when I look him in the eyes.

_Thank you, Li-kun. Thank you so much for saving him_.

No. It sounds like I'm mocking him, mocking his sincerity with distancing formality. I need to think of something better –

"You're so quiet," Syaoran observes, his voice soft and thoughtful. I start visibly and, unprepared, meet his gaze again. The way his head's resting on one palm of his hand, tilted so that his face is angled in my direction, gives me the most unsettling feeling that he's been watching me intently during my intense internal literary struggle.

"I – I'm just –" Oh, Kami-sama, why are words failing me, now when I need them the most?

His expression doesn't change.

"Thinking?" he offers, maybe reading too well the expressions that I haven't been guarding too well on my face, in my eyes.

"Y – Yes," I answer, grappling for the lifeline he's just thrown me. It's like a version of the countless conversations I'd shared with Lang over the years. Me, struggling to find the one word that would fit in an otherwise seamless sea of prose, and him, just miraculously coming up with the best fit, doctoring it so that everything fits perfectly. Except this time, this is real. And there's no unseen beta halfway across the world editing my lines for me. This time, I have generate the final product myself. I have to get it right, the first time.

"About what?" he prompts. His voice is still serious, but it's lost the harsh intensity of confession. It's lost the desperation preceding imminent loss.

"I –" I swallow.

_Courage, Sakura._

"It's just that –" My words die before they can roll off of my tongue, to my horror. Why is this so hard? All I have to do is thank the boy for his huge amount of generosity. His reasons for it are irrelevant. Pure and simple.

So why is this so complicated for me?

_Break it down into its simplest elements_, Lang had told me once. _You overcomplicate things sometimes. You don't have to use a thousand words where only one or two can suffice. That's the beauty of concision. _

I exhale slowly. Bless Lang and his words of wisdom, for being my polishing touch not only in the literary world, but in the real one too. My words were getting in my way, as usual. In this confrontation of innermost thoughts and feelings, my greatest weapon was my strongest handicap.

Across from me, Syaoran doesn't furrow his brow or frown or tell me to get on with it. He just sits there, watching me calmly, waiting for me to sort out the jumbled mess in my head patiently. And for this, I'm so thankful to him.

"I just wanted to tell you," I manage, my voice straining and weak to my ears but I go on regardless, "that – that I don't care why you did it, it doesn't matter to me why, as long as the fact remains – I mean – it doesn't change anything for me –"

Kami, I'm the one babbling now.

"Just...thank you," I finish, rather lamely, and hang my head, embarrassed.

There's a pause before Syaoran speaks.

"Is that all?" he asks, and I can hear a bit of surprise in his voice.

"Well...yes," I answer, a little too quickly. I hope I don't sound too defensive. I mean, what else did he want to hear from me?

"You don't _have_ to thank me," he says pointedly, and there's a note of that old harsh desperation in his voice again, the warning that this conversation could veer off on a dangerous course if we let it run its own ambling way. "Don't you get it? It's the least I can do for you now. Can't you understand how I f - It's going to be okay, Sakura-chan. From now on, I'll _make sure_ everything's okay for you."

His voice wavers uncontrollably near the end.

"Syaoran-kun."

I freeze. I don't think I've ever called him that to his face before.

He looks at me as though he can't quite believe how far we've come, sitting at this small table. And I understand his disbelief, his shattering relief, because I feel it too. Feel almost blessed to be sitting here with him, talking so intimately, telling him what I'd longed to tell him all these years and feared that I'd never get to say. We were lost in the distance that had opened up between us and now, with that space growing smaller by the second, it was as though we were learning to see again. Learning to breathe again.

"Thank you for everything," I continue, my voice now the one refusing to rise above a whisper. "I don't know what would have happened to me – or my family – if you hadn't done what you did. And – even though there's nothing left to forgive, I think – I forgive you. Because you gave him a second chance when everything else was gone. I didn't have anything left, no pride, no hope, no one to ask for help–"

"But that's different now," Syaoran insists firmly. "Because you've got me."

I freeze again, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu come upon me. I've heard declarations of friendship many times in my life and so the statement shouldn't have brought about this sense of – well, I don't know what exactly I felt. But this was the second time in such a short span of time that Syaoran had reminded me of Lang. It was as though I'd found a real-life equivalent to my online confidante.

"Thank you," I choke out, staggered by the revelation.

His eyes meet mine and the puzzled look in them match the puzzled look in mine. It's as though both of us can place that this scene is at once familiar, played out at some point in our lives earlier, but with something not quite right about it. As though someone had gotten their lines wrong, or as though the wrong character had spoken. Almost.

"What is it?" I ask him, when the silence becomes too deep.

He just shakes his head, and there's a guarded look coming over his shadowed eyes.

"You just reminded me of someone," he says absently. Then his eyes meet mine again, and there's a faint shadow of a smile on his lips, such that I forget the moment's unsettling nature, shelve it away in the back of my mind without a further thought.

After all, it's better than I'd dared to hope. It's as though the sun's finally come out, piercing the long darkness that had eclipsed my life. Dad's recovering. The bills are getting paid. And then, Syaoran –

"Here you go!" sings Tomoyo's voice right beside my ear. I jump up in surprise as she plants a large cup of something frothy in front of me.

Eriol chuckles as he sits down, his eyes behind his glasses swiftly examining Syaoran and I.

"Sorry we took so long," he offered, his voice not apologetic in the slightest. "But that was a pretty long line. I hope you didn't miss us too much?"

I smile at him, but it's Syaoran who gets his words out first.

"No, I think we're going to be okay," he says, almost gravely.

Eriol and Tomoyo both go very still, exchange a glance and then deliberately look elsewhere. But the same knowing smile creeps onto both their faces.

As for me, I don't even care. Syaoran's words are still ringing in the air, long after we take up animated discussions about a multitude of different subjects.

_We're going be okay..._

I think they're the most beautiful sound I've heard in a long, _long_ while.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to CLAMP. You know the drill.

**a/n:** Yes, finally, something not wrist-slittingly depressing for once. Who knew it was possible? **-le gaspe-**

Just to clarify: no, Sakura did **not** figure out that Syaoran and Lang are the same person. Both sides recognized a bit of their online counterparts in each other, but that's about it. I tried to incorporate the dichotomy between the literary world and the real one within the conversation, but I couldn't make it too striking because the focus is obviously on Syaoran and Sakura's reconciliation. There was also a reference back to the conversation between "Sayuri" and "Lang", in the third chapter, which'll probably make the last part of this chapter easier to understand.

Okay, so I'm aware that you still don't know about what happened to the Fight Card back a couple of chapters ago. Actually, I'm not gonna lie, I forget what happened to it too. **-sweatdrop-** It's just been such a very long time since I've touched fanfiction in general, and because _Literary_ was the loosest of all my fics plotwise, I have a feeling this might end up being the trickiest to write, simply because I was never very sure with what I wanted to do with it.

Fear not, patient and beloved readers. I've still got a ways to go before I'm through with this fic in all.

Next to be updated is _Undercover_. Keep an eye out for that one within the next like, month or so. **-cough-**

I feel almost embarrassed to ask for reviews. But they're always loffled. And the odd well-written one does have the power to get me back into writing a bit, so...

**Next Chapter:** Um, I'm still trying to decide. But I know that Touya and Syaoran will meet up. So sparks are definitely going to fly in the next chapter. Look out for it and more, in _Echo_.

**Please do review! I'm trying to maintain 30 reviews a chapter. Think you love me enough to do it for me?**

**:D**

**-_Celestiana_**


	10. Echo

_**Literary..**_

**Summary: **Sakura is a famous fanfiction author. Syaoran is the best beta she's ever had. They share a world made of the words and tales they weave and write. But they don't know that they know each other...in real life.

**Full Summary: **He promised he'd come back for her. She promised to wait for him. But a misunderstanding creates a giant rift between Sakura and Syaoran, enough to break the powerful friendship they once shared. To escape fate's blows, Sakura seeks solace in fanfiction and soon becomes a famous author on the busy _Fanfiction Corner, _under the alias Sayuri. She's lucky enough to meet Lang, and he becomes her greatest fan, faithful beta, and online buddy/soulmate. Wait until she finds out that "Lang" is really Syaoran, the cause of all her troubles...

**a/n: **Has it really been two years? Wow.

To everyone who's stayed with this story: you're like the little readers who could. I don't even recognize this fandom anymore, but you guys are about the biggest reason why I do stick around now and then.

Anyway, less questions and more answers!

Happy reading!

* * *

Chapter Nine. Echo

**Syaoran's POV**

"_Ah_!"

The sound of footsteps thudding down the hall echoes around the house.

"What happened?" Meiling's voice asks from the middle of the hallway.

I bite my lip, glaring daggers at the corner of my bedstand.

"Nothing," I call back to her. "Stubbed my toe, that's all."

I can hear her snort through the crack in my door, its condescension curling around my room blithely.

"Well, when you're done moping, you can hurry up and pick up the phone, because it's for you," she says. The receding sounds of her footsteps, now soft and padding leisurely across the plush carpeted floor, tell me that she's returning to her room.

Oh right. Phone.

I reach for the receiver propped up by my bedside, picking it up and flopping down on top of my bedspread simultaneously.

"Hello?"

"_Xiao Lang_!" squeals a sharply high-pitched voice that I recognize all too well. "It's been so long!"

I can't help but let out a small laugh as Sheifa babbles on in that breakneck pace that only she can maintain with ease.

When at last she pauses to take a breath, I cut in.

"So how is everyone?" I ask. "And to what do I owe this surprise phone call?"

Sheifa laughs freely, and I can picture her shaking her head on the other end of the receiver.

"You're too much sometimes," she replies, somewhat reproachfully. "Can't a girl talk to her favourite little brother these days anymore? Even if he _does_ happen to be the Heir to the Clan of the Lis –"

"Enough of that, now," I interrupt her, my mouth twisting wryly as her voice begins to adopt a mockingly pompous tone. "I'll have you know the Elders won't appreciate you slighting their beloved clan like that."

I can't help the slight sarcasm that slips into my voice. If the Elders happen to be within earshot, I'm in trouble.

Sheifa gasps exaggeratedly.

"I'm _so sorry_!" she declares overdramatically. "I had _no idea_ that the Elders couldn't figure out a joke if it –"

"Sheifa," I say warningly. I enjoy a good laugh now and then, but just in case... I didn't want her getting in trouble at my expense.

"You're no fun sometimes either," she sniffs, and I can hear the pout in her voice. "So go on. What did you do today, Your Most Exalted Heirliness?"

"Oh, shut up," I retort lazily. "For your information, I was just – having coffee with a friend."

"_Reaallyy_?"

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

"Friends, I mean," I correct myself hastily. "Friends. As in the plural. Having coffee with friends. Yes."

There's an unsettling silence.

"Sheifa? You there?"

"Yup," comes Sheifa's voice, unnaturally chipper, even for her. "So...who's this _friend_ of yours?"

_Crap._

"These _friends_ are people Meiling and I met when we came to Tomoeda last time," I say as casually as I possibly can. I do _not_ want Sheifa reading into this more than necessary. The last thing I need is for this to get back to the Elders.

"Okay, if you don't want to talk, you could have just _said_ so," Sheifa complains in that pouty voice of hers.

"It's not that!" I try to defend myself. "I _do_ want to talk...just it's hard over the phone and all."

"_Right_," Sheifa says with emphasis. "Is His Heirliness just not a phone person?"

"There's that," I answer cautiously, "and there's also the fact that I'm worried a certain Respected Sister of the Heirliness might get in trouble for talking too freely in the presence of the Elders..."

"Oh very funny, little brother," she snorts. "You worry so much about me, I'm charmed. By the way, Fuutie's getting married."

"She's getting _WHAT?_" I yelp, sitting upright now. "To who? When?"

"To some Chan fellow," Sheifa replies nonchalantly. "Next week."

"_Next week_?" I repeat incredulously. "What – why? Why so soon?"

"Oh you know," Sheifa replies loftily, "as the eldest daughter of the Li clan, it is her duty to strengthen favourable ties with the most respectable and forthright of our contemporaries as soon as she is of a marriageable age –"

"She's twenty-three!" I interject hotly. "She just started doing her MBA and everything –"

"Yeah, she's not doing that anymore," Sheifa cuts me off. "Her husband's going to be taking care of the business."

Her words ring in the air for a moment.

"Lucky him," is all I manage to get out.

"Look, Xiao Lang," Sheifa says at length, rather delicately. "I know everything happened really quickly, and it's probably upsetting you – but – Fuutie told me to tell you that she's alright with the decision. She says that the Elders couldn't have chosen a better man for her and – and that she'll be happy with him."

I open and close my mouth wordlessly, trying to put it all together in my head. Fuutie, my oldest sister, who had been so determined to take over the family business empire despite being a woman. Fuutie, who had been so strong and intelligent and had always been able to hold her own, even in a painfully sexist, orthodox world pitted against her. Fuutie, whose only goal had been to fulfil the duties of the son she should have been, instead of the daughter that she actually was...

Fuutie, giving all that up to get _married_?

"It just seems like such a waste," I bring myself to say finally. "She has _so_ much potential. How can she even _think_ of throwing it all away and settle to be another – just another _housewife_?"

Sheifa doesn't say anything. I'm guessing that something's going on, something that she can't talk about over the phone. Behind closed doors, something is at work. And I know that the clan Elders are behind it. They're always behind any decision that'll end up giving us grief. Kami, I've sworn to relinquish that group of doddering old fools the moment I become leader of the clan. Tradition or not, they have _got_ to go.

"She says this is what's best," Sheifa says, but her tone of voice indicates otherwise. "And that she expects to see you home for the wedding."

I'm taken aback. Going back to Hong Kong, right now in the middle of everything happening with Sakura and Fujitaka-san still not out of the hospital yet...

"You're welcome to bring any _friends_ along with you," Sheifa suggests slyly, reading my silence as only she could. "We'd make sure they'd be taken care of."

"Right," I answer. The idea does sound tempting. Invite Sakura – and Tomoyo and Eriol – to Hong Kong for the wedding? Under any other circumstances, I would have tried for it. But now, with her family life perched so precariously on the edge, I know Sakura won't even consider leaving. And it's not my job to convince her otherwise.

"You _will_ ask them, won't you?" Sheifa wheedles. "Please don't get all shy and buttoned up like you always do, now."

"I do _not_," I bristle indignantly. "I'll ask and see. She'll probably say no, though."

A moment's pause.

"_They'll_ probably say no, I mean," I correct myself ineffectually.

Thankfully, Sheifa doesn't comment this time.

* * *

I step out of the elevator, looking around me. I glance at the room numbers mounted next to the doorways in the hallway, trying to make some sense of the order they go in...

"Can I help you?"

I snap back to reality at the sound of the receptionist's voice. She offers me a smile; clearly, I look like I'm lost. Which I am.

"Uh, yes," I stutter, walking up to her desk. "I wanted to visit a patient, Mr. Fujitaka Kinomoto – he was transferred here from intensive care earlier today...?"

"Kinomoto? Let me see..." The receptionist taps at her keyboard briefly, then scans the contents of her monitor briefly. "Yes, Kinomoto Fujitaka, room C425. Just go down that hallway and take a left, you'll see it on your right."

I nod my head.

"Thank you," I say. Her smile widens and then I head off in the outlined direction, keeping an eye out for C425. On my way, I rehearse my proposition, hoping – praying – that it comes out much more smoothly than it does, sounded out silently, inside my head.

I see room C425 as I round the corner, and then I freeze.

From here, I can see two things. I can see a large window, partially blinded, not quite concealing the unconscious redheaded male hooked up to about a thousand beeping machines.

I can also see Sakura's older brother sitting in a plush armchair just outside the room.

There's also no sign of Sakura.

Great.

Sakura's brother looks up, his fierce dark eyes rising to meet my face even as my footsteps come to a halt.

His face registers confusion. I wonder if he remembers who I am.

"Yes?" he prompts expectantly, crossing his arms.

"Um –" I falter at the defensive look in his eyes. "I was looking for Sakura, actually. I thought she'd be here...?"

The look in Touya's eyes changes from defensive to suspicious. He gets to his feet slowly. I take a step backward, in spite of myself.

"What made you think she'd be here?" he asks me, his eyebrows lowering into a scowl. "Did she tell you herself?"

The incredulity is apparent in his voice.

I swallow carefully.

"Kind of," I say, attempting a placatory mannerism. "Um, it's kind of a long story, but uh – if she's not here, that's fine, I'll try visit her at home or something..."

"Wait a second," Touya says, and he tilts his head, squinting at me. "You're that Li kid, aren't you?"

The seconds drag out before I allow myself to nod briefly. It's all I can manage. Sakura's older brother used to scare the crap out of me when I was younger. Hopefully he's forgotten that by now. Hopefully.

Touya sighs, his shoulders slackening obviously.

"She would tell you," he mutters, almost inaudible. He jams his hands in his pockets.

I'm at a loss for words.

"Why did you want to see her?" Touya asks suddenly.

Now I'm taken aback. Touya being grudgingly hospitable was one matter. Having him be civil was something completely different. It was a testament to how much Fujitaka's ordeal had re-set his children's frame of reference. Sometimes it's impossible to reconcile present-day Sakura and Touya with the images of them from the past that are still ingrained in my head.

I shrug.

"I just had a bit of a - a crazy idea, if you will," I say. "It doesn't really matter, she would have said no anyway..."

Curiously enough, Touya's giving me his undivided attention, and not in an overly aggressive way either.

"And what was that idea?" he asks, his brow furrowing.

"Um." I didn't even know how to phrase this out to Sakura. How the hell am I supposed to make this sound convincing to her scary, overprotective big brother?

Touya only moves to shift his weight. His eyes are still fixed on me though, in that sharp, assessing manner.

"Well," I say at length, meeting his eyes. "Actually – my oldest sister's getting married next week and she asked me to invite my friends to the wedding. So, I wanted to – to – "

"Invite Sakura to come to your sister's wedding," Touya repeats, and to my surprise, there's no scorn in his voice at all. "Why would she have said no to that?"

"Well, because –" my head hands a little, of its own accord, "- because the wedding's going to be held back in Hong Kong, where my family lives."

There's a bit of a pause. I'm too scared to look at the expression on Touya's face. I'm sure he must be livid. And he has good reason – what sort of brother would want his sister to travel out of the country for some stranger's wedding? Especially while their father lay in comatose in a hospital bed? It was absurd, even in my head.

"Hm," comes Touya's voice from what seems like a great distance away. "Yeah, she could be stubborn about that."

I meet his eyes incredulously.

"Obviously, I understand," I say quickly. "I mean – it's obviously an extremely difficult situation for her – and you too – and uh – well, I wouldn't really expect her to want to leave right now in the middle of – you know, I just thought I'd ask..."

I trail off uneasily. To my surprise, there's a very pensive look on Touya's face.

"Did you invite Tomoyo too?" he asks.

"Yes," I reply, taken aback. "Meiling – my cousin – and I, we invited her and Eriol...?"

Touya nods his head slowly. I can almost see the wheels turning in his head.

"And where in Hong Kong would you be staying?" he asks slowly.

I try to make it sound appropriate for a protective older brother, who probably would object to having his sister staying in a boy's house.

"Well – I'm assuming the wedding's going to be held in my clan's ancestral temple, so uh – it would probably make the most sense if everyone stayed in the guest rooms in my home," I answer.

Touya's eyes narrow slightly.

"How many people stay at your house?" he asks, his voice carefully controlled.

"Well, there's me, my mother and my four sisters," I begin carefully. "But we live in my clan's ancestral home, so it's quite – spacious. There's an entire wing of the house especially for guests, because we always have visitors over for some reason or other. So – that's where we'd have the three of them stay."

"I see," Touya remarks cryptically. He lapses back into a thoughtful silence. "When will you head to Hong Kong?"

I swallow.

"The flight's chartered for tomorrow morning," I say tentatively. "So – that really doesn't give you – her – a lot of time to decide..."

Touya nods in understanding.

"And – and you guys are going to be busy?" he asks. "You're not going to have random blank moments where she can just sit around and mope all day?"

I can hardly believe it. Now I'm starting to understand where Touya's coming from.

"Touya-san," I say as sincerely as I can, "if Sakura comes with us, I promise that between all of us, she will have a good time for every moment that she's in Hong Kong."

We regard each other warily, finally understanding each other. I'm not fooled into thinking that Touya's opinion of me might have changed, or that he's suddenly taken a shine to me or whatever. But the power of loss is one of the greatest powers in the world, and at this moment, I'm face-to-face not with the intimidating stubborn male I've known all my life, but instead with the older brother who's concerned with the solemn pained creature his once-cheerful baby sister has grown into, and who, above all else, yearns to see her laugh again.

* * *

**Sakura's POV**

"Hello!" I call out, my voice echoing around my empty house. Taking this as a sign that Touya hasn't come back home yet, I kick off my shoes, drop my bags on the ground and head up to my room.

Kero jumps up from his perch the moment I enter my room.

"Where've you _been_?" he demands urgently. "It's been _three days_ since I've seen _anyone_ in this house! What's going on? How's -?"

"Otou-san's fine," I cut across his words before he can finish. "He hasn't regained consciousness yet – but the doctors say he's in stable condition and he should be fine when he wakes up. And they say he should be regaining consciousness soon."

"That's good," Kero lets out a giant sigh of relief. "I've been so worried, being all alone without any news at all. And then the only person who cares to drop by in the meantime was that Li kid –"

"_What_?" I ask, taken back. "Syaoran – here – when?"

"A little after when you left for the hospital," Kero answers. "He was babbling on about something or other, was hell bent on finding you and wouldn't leave until I told you where you were."

Things start to fall into place. It strikes me that I don't even know _how_ Syaoran found out about Dad. The way things had played out, it was easy to just assume he'd known all along.

"So you told him about Otou-san?" I asked.

"Of course not," Kero scoffs indignantly. "Tell that kid every detail of your life after he made you so miserable? Come on, I know better than that."

"Then what did you tell him?" I press. "I need to know."

Kero shrugs.

"I gave him a really general hint," he replies. "Just to shake him off, because he wouldn't leave otherwise."

"A general hint?" I repeat, dumbfounded. "Then how did – how did he find out –"

"Find out what?" Kero inquires. "And why was he all up in your case anyway? I thought you two weren't talking."

"We weren't," I answer truthfully. "But we got into a huge fight that night –"

"How huge?"

"It was pretty bad," I admit, wincing a little. "I called him out on a lot of things and ended up slapping him right across the face –"

Kero cuts me off with a giant whoop of delight, flying around in giant victory loops.

"_Kero-chan_!" I admonish him gently. "No, listen – Syaoran made up for whatever he did, _more_ than made up for it. He found us at the hospital – I don't know how he did it if you didn't tell him where we were – and somehow managed to figure out that Touya and I were having difficulties with the administration because they wouldn't go ahead with Otou-san's surgery until they had the down payment up front –"

"_What_?" Kero stops flying around in his giant circles. "They wouldn't operate on him?"

"Not unless we paid," I concede, a little bitterly, remembering having to beg and plead in tears in front of the unyielding administrator at the hospital, to no avail. "And it was an obscene amount too, way more than anything Touya or I could have had at our disposal at the time. It was such a hopeless situation, Kero-chan, you have _no_ idea. I thought we were going to lose Otou-san..."

My voice breaks a little at the thought of it, of how real that possibility had seemed that night.

"But then all of a sudden, Touya and I saw the doctors operating on Otou-san," I continue, spirits rising as I remember everything that happened after. "Turned out that Syaoran stepped in and paid for all of Otou-san's treatment. Not just the down payment for the surgery, Kero-chan – _everything_. His medicine, hospital bills, follow-up therapy, _everything_."

Kero simply floats in midair motionlessly. Clearly, he's at a loss for words. And I don't really blame him, the story's quite incredible.

"I know that Syaoran and I had our differences earlier," I continue, taking advantage of Kero's newfound silence. "But we talked just now and cleared everything up. Honestly – we were both just being really immature about really stupid things and that's all there was to it. That on top of what he did for me – for _us_, I mean – I think the very least I can do is forget that I was ever angry with him in the first place."

"I'll say," Kero says absently, still hovering in mid-air. "That's – that's some crazy stuff you've been going through lately."

"I know," I acquiesce with a wince. "What with Otou-san's surgery and having Syaoran suddenly step in and save the day. I swear, it's like there's some crazy person writing out my life for me and they're hell bent on making it as ridiculous as possible."

"You could be on to something there," Kero agrees with a serious nod. "Anything else out of the ordinary happen recently, or would that be pushing it?"

"Actually –" I pause, eyes widening. "Hold on."

I fumble around in my purse. _Where did I put it again..._?

I pull out the Fight Card from my purse and wave it at Kero.

"_This_ went psycho on me the day Otou-san had his heart attack," I explain, as Kero tilts his head and examines the Card carefully. "Do you have any idea how that might've happened?"

Kero doesn't answer for a moment.

"That's unusual," he remarks. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Yeah," I say, trying to recollect how it all started. "I was walking home from the clinic where it just attacked me out of nowhere."

"Just like that?" Kero asks.

"Yes," I answer emphatically.

"You didn't call it or anything?" Kero pries. "Didn't aggravate it?"

"No," I say, surprised. "I was just walking home, enjoying the weather, thinking about – thinking about some things, I guess, and then it just came out of nowhere and smashed me into a fence."

"That's really very strange," Kero muses, scratching his chin. "Even for the Fight Card, that's unusually aggressive behaviour."

"What about you?" I ask pointedly. "Didn't you feel anything unusual? You're supposed to be guarding the Cards, how'd one get away without you noticing at all?"

"I really have no idea," Kero says numbly.

We fall into an uneasy silence.

"So how did you take care of it?" Kero asks at length.

"I didn't," I answer diffidently. "Syaoran did."

I don't want to see the disappointment in Kero's eyes. Shame courses through me, turning my cheeks and ears red hot.

"Let me get this straight," Kero says, disbelief evident in his voice. "You're the Cardmistress and you couldn't tame a rogue Card. But the Li kid could?"

I nod slowly, eyes still downcast.

"I find that really hard to believe," Kero says flatly, after a momentous pause.

"I...I've become really weak," I struggle to explain, raising my eyes to meet Kero's dark ones. "You know what's been going on. You know I haven't been honing my skills for years now. And – and Syaoran's been in Hong Kong training this whole time. It makes sense that he's become – _better_ – than me."

My words ring in my ears hollowly. Syaoran, once so determined to best me...well, he's done it now. A burning sickly feeling eats away at my gut.

"It's a logical explanation for sure," Kero quips, a furrow creasing on his forehead, "but it doesn't work that way."

I blink stupidly.

"What do you mean?"

Kero sighs.

"Well, remember what happened last time," he says, flexing his wings and relaxing them again rhythmically. "Back when you and Syaoran were kids, out capturing the Cards. I'd say he definitely had the advantage, being descended from Clow Reed himself. You'd think he would have had knowledge and training enough to become the Cardmaster, right?"

"Right," I echo.

"But that didn't happen," Kero continues. "It takes more than just pure skill to tame the Cards, Sakura. I thought you'd know that by now. You passed the final judgment. You made the Cards your own. They're bonded to you no matter what. Their power waxes and wanes with yours."

"But that's not what's happening," I argue. "You're saying that if I become weak, then the Cards become weak too. But Fight was stronger than ever. It did things I've never seen before."

Kero's face darkens for a moment, before he carefully schools himself to tightly controlled neutrality.

"What kind of things?" he asks tightly.

I'm starting to get scared.

"Crazy things," I answer, trying to remember that charged encounter. It seems like it was so long ago, even though it's only been a few days. "It could disappear and reappear at will. It could shoot fire. It could even control some kind of new force, some kind of terrible dark power."

As I speak, Kero's face grows more and more worried.

"Dark power?" he asks after I've finished talking. "You mean, like something the Dark Card would use?"

"No," I answer, feeling a chill of foreboding running down my spine. "Dark's power is meant to balance Light's. Its power is strong but benign at the same time. What Fight used was different. That energy was overwhelming. It felt like it would consume everything. I've never felt something so evil before."

A long silence greets my words.

"When you say _evil_," Kero ventures tentatively, "what exactly do you mean?"

I bite my lip, trying to collect my thoughts.

"It's like this," I struggle to articulate myself as best as I can. "The Cards are just manifestations of elemental power. I made them, so I know that they're not inherently bad. They don't exist to harm. If their power is used carelessly, then yes, they can hurt people, but no Card that I know of is in possession of power meant only to destroy. That's the kind of power Fight used against me. There was nothing that could balance it, nothing that could get in its way. Its only intent was to hurt, possibly to annihilate. After it hit me, I felt _drained_. It was as though it'd sucked the living force out of me."

Kero turns pale at my words.

"Like a vacuum," he says slowly. "Like everything that's the opposite of what the Cards are supposed to represent."

My mouth goes dry.

"Exactly like that," I say quietly. My heart is drumming in my chest and for some inexplicable reason, I feel scared.

Kero doesn't say anything. He just stares blankly into space. Thought lines and worry lines intermingle across his face.

"Kero?" I say hesitantly. "What's going on?"

He doesn't respond at first. Then, his eyes slowly meet mine.

"I don't really know –" he begins, but his voice is cut off as the phone starts to ring.

_Of all the time in the world_, I think to myself irately, running to my desk and picking up the receiver.

"Kinomoto residence," I say, somewhat impatiently.

"_Sakura-chan?_"

It's Tomoyo. She sounds excited.

"You sound excited," I say, somewhat cautiously. When Tomoyo gets excited, it's usually cause for me to become very, very careful.

"_I just got off the phone with Meiling_," she says cheerfully. "_She had some really amazing news!_"

"Really?" I ask, wondering what any of this has to do with me. "What did she say?"

"_Syaoran's older sister in Hong Kong is getting married next week!_" Tomoyo announces. "_And Meiling says we're invited to the wedding! Isn't that exciting?_"

My eyes go round. A_ wedding_?

Part of me is excited. Weddings mean happiness and celebrations and laughter and all manner of good things. But part of me is reluctant to feel any such thing while Dad is still unconscious in the hospital.

Another part of me manages to feel hurt. Why couldn't Syaoran invite me, if it's his sister's wedding?

"That's great," I make myself say. "But – I don't know –"

"_What's wrong?_"

Perceptive as always, Tomoyo catches the hitch in my voice. I steel myself as I begin to explain.

"I can't – not with – my family needs me here –"

"_Your onii-chan doesn't think so_," Tomoyo replies smoothly.

Now I'm caught off guard.

"He doesn't? How do you know?"

"_Syaoran talked to him_," Tomoyo is practically singing now. "_And he said that Touya-san agreed that it would be good if you came along with us._"

My face flames red. Syaoran talked to _Touya_? And Touya _agreed_ with him? What is going on with this world?

"Why didn't Syaoran just ask me himself?" I find myself asking before I can stop myself.

"_You know how he is_," Tomoyo replies. "_Come on, Sakura, it'll be so much fun! You, me and Eriol are all invited, and we can just travel with Meiling and Syaoran, and stay with them for a week. I think you could use a break, and I know I'm not alone in thinking that._"

It's too much to take in. Syaoran and I have barely mended our friendship. And now he wants me to come with him to his home in Hong Kong?

And everyone is _okay with this_?

"I know what you mean, Tomoyo," I answer breathlessly. "And you know I'd love to join you guys on your visit to Syaoran's home in Hong Kong. But there's _so much_ going on right now, I don't know if I can –"

"Did you just say that you're going to visit Syaoran's home in Hong Kong?" Kero interrupts me suddenly.

I turn to face him, clamping a hand over the mouthpiece.

"No, but they're asking me to," I explain. "Syaoran's older sister is getting married apparently –"

"And they've invited you to come," Kero states. "To stay with them."

"Yes."

"In the Li ancestral home?" Kero presses. "Where Clow Reed's living family members reside?"

It dawns on me, what Kero's implying.

"You think someone in Syaoran's family might know what's going on?" I ask him quietly.

"I don't know for sure," Kero replies, his jaw set resolutely. "But if there's one place to check out when the Cards are behaving strangely, that would be it."

"You're saying I should go, then?"

Kero nods.

I sigh, but I can't fight the swell of excitement that rushes over me as I uncover the mouthpiece.

"On second thought Tomoyo-chan, maybe you're right. I'd love to come along."

* * *

**Syaoran's POV**

Stifling a yawn, I swivel around in my chair to glance at the pile of clothes and books lying on my bed, waiting to be sorted into my suitcase. I groan inwardly. Of all the mundane tasks in the world that I despise, packing has got to be on the top of the list. Even though I know I'm only going to Hong Kong for a week, and that too back _home_, the thought of spending _one_ hour folding my multitude of green shirts and jeans irks me.

Meiling sticks her head in the doorway to say good night.

"You haven't started packing yet?" she asks, raising her eyebrows at the clutter on my bed.

I shrug.

"I'm getting there," I answer lazily.

Her discerning eyes pan across my room from my messy bed to the clock on my desk, which reads _12:01 AM_.

"You might want to get a move on it," she suggests, her mouth quirking up slightly at the corners. "Wei-san says the car will be here at five in the morning. The last thing you want to do is slow us up by sleeping in."

"I won't," I grumble, dragging a hand through my hair. My cousin's eyes follow this movement coolly.

"I already know what your sisters are going to say when they see you," she says dispassionately. "They're going to cry for you to get your hair cut."

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter, getting to my feet and seating myself on a corner of my bed. "I'm going to start packing now."

To emphasize my point, I grab a dark green polo at random and air it out in front of me.

"Long night ahead of you," Meiling observes solemnly as I slowly fold and press the shirt onto a bare patch of the bed. "I'll leave you to it then."

"Good night to you too," I call out to her retreating back.

"Don't sleep too tight," she calls back. "Otherwise you'll keep Eriol, Tomoyo and Sakura waiting, and then we'll _really_ have a problem."

Words of wisdom from Meiling the Wise.

"I survived asking Sakura's crazy older brother to come to Hong Kong with us," I mutter to myself. "I think I can survive being a couple of minutes late for our flight."

Oh boy. Was that a conversation. Then again, it was a lot easier than I'd expected, given the circumstances.

As I busy myself folding my clothing and sorting out my other belongings, the memory of that conversation looms vividly in the forefront of my thoughts. Big brother Touya, with a giant soft spot for his baby sister. Who'd have thought?

Minutes pass by as I methodically pack and sort, pack and sort. Then, just as I'm placing things into my suitcase, I hear a soft alert go off on my computer. I turn around to see a new e-mail sitting in my account.

It's from Sayuri.

Dropping whatever I have into the suitcase, I cross over to my desk and open the message, scanning it quickly.

_Dear Lang,_

_Just wanted to let you know that I'll be out of the country for the next week, and probably won't have much time for Internet access. _

_Hope you have a great set of holidays!_

_All the best_

_Sayuri._

I glance at the send time. She literally just sent this e-mail. I wonder if she's online on _Fanfiction Corner_? I sign in quickly, see her penname highlighted in green at the top of my contacts list and select it immediately.

_You're awake late_, I tease her.

She replies right away.

_Last minute packing is a real sleep killer_.

I chuckle to myself as I type.

_I feel your pain. Where are you travelling to?_

My eyes shift to the clock while I wait for her reply. It now reads _1:12 AM_. Fuck, and I probably need to be up by 4:30 latest...

I look back at the screen just as she replies.

_The grammar purist in me would like to correct your question. It should read 'To where are you travelling?'_

I snort.

_Fine. TO WHERE are you travelling?_

She sends me a smiley face before her next response appears.

_Hong Kong_.

I freeze.

No way. No way. I know our lives take on incredible parallels, but this – _this_ is taking things to a whole other level.

_You'll never believe this_, I begin to type. _That's where I'm headed_.

There's a break in her replies. I figure it's taking her a while to process this latest huge coincidence.

_You would be headed there_, she says at length. _The laws of the universe dictate that our lives run completely parallel to each other, after all_.

Her sarcasm masks her surprise all too well.

_So what business brings you to Hong Kong?_ I ask casually.

She sends me a confused smiley before her next reply flashes onscreen.

_Shin invited me and a couple of friends to go with him_.

I raise my eyebrows.

_So I take it you guys aren't fighting anymore?_

She LOLs.

_Yeah, we patched things up. I think we mutually came to the realization that we were being idiots. Then we talked things through and now we're okay._

She's okay. Her and Shin made up. Just like how Sakura and I made up. Wow. This is – almost suspicious, now that I think about it...

_So why are you going to Hong Kong?_ Sayuri asks, breaking my train of thought. _Was this a long-standing plan that you weren't planning on telling me about?_

_Actually no_, I answer. _It was really last-minute. Some family business popped up_.

I can't help smirking as I quickly add, _but Aimi's coming with me too_.

_Duh_, comes Sayuri's sarcastic reply. _Because you know, we're the same people_.

_Obviously_, I answer. _Where in Hong Kong are you going to be?_

_I have no idea_, Sayuri retorts. _Shin knows the area, whereas I have never been before._

Shin's from Hong Kong?

_Yeah, well, once you reach there and get yourself oriented, if you happen to have Internet access, let me know where you are_, I suggest. _Maybe we can finally meet in person_.

_That'd be awesome!_ Sayuri exclaims, and I feel excitement growing in me. _Us, finally meeting! Although you know, it'd be kind of anticlimactic if we really are the same person_.

What a comical proposition.

_I have a better theory_, I say, only half-joking now. _I turn out to be Shin!_

She sends me a shocked smiley.

_Now THAT'S a twist ending for you_, she says. _Either way...we'll find out in time, won't we?_

_This is true_, I affirm. _Anyway, I should probably go to bed now._

_Early morning flight?_ Sayuri guesses.

_Yup_, I answer wryly.

_Same_, she answers. _Well. Goodnight, Lang!_

_Call me Shin_, I joke. She sends me a last LOL before she signs off.

Turning off my desktop, I lean back in my chair as I try to entertain that possibility. Our lives being so similar, would it be so outrageous if it came to pass that the living, breathing persona behind Sayuri's Internet alias was someone I already knew?

I try to remember everything Sayuri's told me about this Shin guy. Shin is obviously a code name for someone else. What if Shin was a code name for me?

An unsettling thought enters my head.

If I'm Shin, then Sayuri would be my Aimi. And that would be impossible because...

Surreptitiously, I glance outside my window. In the distance, Sakura's curtains are drawn and her lights are firmly turned off.

The sight of it is reassuring and disappointing at the same time.

Either way, I think to myself as I climb onto my cleared bed and turn off my lights, things are bound to get interesting soon.

Well, one can only assume.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** CCS = property of CLAMP, no copyright infringement intended, this is written purely for entertainment and I gain no profits at all, blah blah blah...

**a/n:** And may I introduce the beginning of the end! Except not really because that thing about the crazy Card is still kind of up in the air...

Ok hands up, how many people are getting bored with the dual-persona-irony of the Sakura/Syaoran, Sayuri/Lang sitch? I'm trying to figure out how much I have left to go before they finally figure it out. (As you can see, our smart boyo Syaoran is starting to have suspicions. Like FINALLY.)

**Next Chapter:** At the rate at which I update? I have no idea, except it'll be taking place in Hong Kong and we'll finally get to meet all the Lis! And those sinister Elders too... Look out for it and more, in _Currents_.

**Please do review! I'm trying to maintain 30 reviews a chapter. Think you love me enough to do it for me?**

**:D**

**-_Celestiana_**


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